


Soliloquy

by Skvader



Series: The Soliloquy Saga [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Developing Friendships, Devil May Cry (Game), Devil May Cry 5 Spoilers, Devil May Cry 5 Vergil, Dysfunctional Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Identity Issues, Long-Distance Friendship, Male Friendship, Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Post-Devil May Cry 5, Team as Family, Threats, Twins, Uncle Dante (Devil May Cry), Vitale, threat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 76,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skvader/pseuds/Skvader
Summary: After the events of Devil May Cry 5, things have changed drastically. The general public is starting to question the existence of supernatural beings after the Redgrave Disaster, and it's leading to consequences no one could have foreseen. Threats are hiding in every corner and dangerous forces are conjuring up dark plans as usual, but something about this is different. And that's not taking into account the fate of a certain beloved member of the family or the turbulent atmosphere at the Devil May Cry headquarters...Updates every Friday and most Wednesdays!Finished! Currently working on part two! Thanks for reading, everyone! See you in book two: Apocrypha! Check out my Soliloquy Saga series list for more detailed information if you'd like to hear more about what I plan to do with the series!This is an AU fic. It is canon divergent. Please do not send me hate mail if that isn't something you're interested in reading. I've received more than enough of it. Thank you.
Series: The Soliloquy Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835569
Comments: 169
Kudos: 140





	1. Prologue:

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to DMC. If I did, V would still be alive and this AU wouldn’t need to exist. This story isn’t canon-compliant, but everything will be explained in a way that makes sense and is satisfying (hopefully). This is a long and very involved work of love for the series, and I hope you can enjoy it for what it is, and I don’t get any hate mail over it. I love the original games and books. They are a huge part of my life and have been for over a decade. I'm just trying to contribute to something I truly love. Thanks, and enjoy the story! This is gonna be a long one!

"Love seeketh not itself to please,  
Nor for itself hath any care,  
But for another gives its ease,  
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."  
-William Blake

Prologue:

And as soon as the battle had started, it stopped. All the demons that had been foolish enough to think that they stood a chance against the sons of Sparda now laid dead at their feet. Well, for now, at least. The base of the Qliphoth seemed to be an epicenter for demon activity, and it was never very long before they decided to return in mass quantities. And as entertaining as defeating the first hundred or so waves of hell beasts had been, it was long past time to leave this place.

Dante pulled his blade out of what remained of a Chaos carcass and flicked it clean before returning it to its proper place on his back. The devil hunter did a full 360 turn, taking in the perimeter of destruction they had wrought. The average demon didn’t stand a chance against him, but both of them together? The word “futile” came to mind. Dante shook his head and scoffed to himself. “They just don’t stop, do they?”

Behind him, Vergil twirled Yamato and dragged it along its scabbard to remove the residual blood before returning it to its proper place. He then spared a glance over his shoulder at Dante. “What made you think that they would in the first place, brother? This is the underworld. They’re not going to let up anytime soon, I can assure you of that.”

Dante sighed tiredly. Yea, there was no way he could have guessed that one with his brother’s assistance. But regardless of how obvious the statement was, the point he made was still valid. During their extended stay down here, Dante hadn’t really taken the time to consider the situation in full until now. The fighting was never going to end, and they had no safe area to call home. And then there was the conversation that they both knew they needed to have, but neither of them seemed to want to initiate.

The matter of how long they were going to stay down here.

“So, Vergil, I’ve gotta ask,” Dante said as he walked towards his twin brother. Vergil was standing with his back to him, looking at something far off in the distance that his younger brother couldn’t quite pinpoint. He seemed lost in thought; focused. He tilted his head ever so slightly in Dante’s general direction but was still clearly more focused on his prior observations. “How the hell did you get out of this place without Yamato?”

Vergil looked almost amused by the question. Of all the things his younger twin brother could’ve asked, that was his question? It was almost ironic. “...That is…” Vergil paused for a moment as if searching for the correct word”... It’s convoluted, to say the least. I would demonstrate but…”. Vergil didn’t need to say that it was an awful idea. Dante had deduced that one for himself from his brother’s tone alone.

“Got it. Let’s just hope we don’t need to do it again.” Dante shrugged. He didn’t think Vergil was going to try to explain that one, and part of him honestly didn’t want to know. It was probably something awful, considering Vergil’s track record. Their father Sparda had made it nearly impossible for more powerful demons to leave the underworld. Too bad he hadn’t left an instruction manual to go with his magic wards. It could have solved more than a few problems…

Vergil stepped forward and used Yamato to gesture towards whatever he had been looking at in the distance before. “We may have more luck over there.”

Dante looked towards what his brother was indicating. If he strained his eyes, he could just make out something red and jagged in the distance. A row of red thorn-like structures extended out across the horizon in what looked like a wall of some sort. Or that was what he thought it was from where they currently were. If distance worked the same way in the Underworld that it did in the human world, that had to be a few miles away. But, it wasn't like they had anywhere better to go, and they couldn't be any more exposed to attack than they were now.

The younger Son of Sparda opted to accept the offer and waved Vergil on, indicating that he was willing to follow him. After all, Vergil had spent a long time down here. A very long time. If anyone knew their way around this place, then it was going to be him. Vergil started down the well-worn path that led away from what was left of the Qliphoth. It would be good to leave this place behind them. It might now lay dead at their feet, cut to the ground by their blades, but it still served as a powerful reminder of Vergil's destructive and frankly tragically misguided desire for power at all costs. There would be a time and a place for that conversation, but that time hadn't come yet and it wasn't something either of them relished. For now, they would go to whatever the mysterious structure was in the distance and regroup. Perhaps they could take a break and collect their thoughts for a moment when they arrived.

-~-

The first leg of their long walk was surprisingly uneventful. Only a small handful of lesser Empusa bothered to stand in their path, most likely displaced from their home and purpose after the destruction of the Qliphoth and the sealing of the Hellgate the monstrous houseplant had housed. It was official: Vergil was never, under any circumstances, allowed to garden again. Anyone who could conger up the demonic equivalent of the magic beanstalk from Jack and the Beanstalk couldn't be trusted with plants to any capacity. If only Vergil could find a hobby that didn't end in people dying...

As they had continued onward, however, things had become a bit more hazardous. And as they neared their destination, things took a radical turn towards danger. The first dozen or two Empusa Queens hadn't been too hard to deal with. They were nothing new. But then the Behemoths decided to team up with the Chaos and Riot demons, and the Lusachia started showing up in droves. It was all a bit much to deal with at once, but when the Pyrobats showed up, they decided that they were done casually dealing with this. Dante's twin pistols Ebony and Ivory made quick work of the flying menaces, while Vergil took out the Behemoth's with concerning speed and efficiency. As soon as the last Pyrobat had died, Dante turned his attention to the Chaos. It had seemingly been sizing him up from across the battleground for a while now, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Dante bent over and placed his hands on his knees, gesturing between himself and the demon playfully. "What's wrong little guy, all bark and no bite?"

The demon, seemingly understanding Dante's little jab at him, snarled in rage before coiling up into a tight blade-lined disk and rocketing towards him at blistering speed. Dante smirked to himself and drew Cavaliere, readying it for a charge attack. Just a the demon was about to collide with him, Dante effortlessly swung the hulking bike blade into the hapless creature, shattering its razor-sharp bladed scales in an explosion of fuel fueled flames and exploding sparks. With just one well-placed strike, he had immobilized and disoriented the creature, effectively killing it. With one last powerful over the shoulder downward strike, he finished off the creature. The confused beast cried out in a mixture of pain and shock before flopping down onto the ground and dying.

Dante put Cavaliere away and stood back up just in time to come face to face with a Riot. He leaped backward several feet the very instant that the creature's long needle-like claws would have connected with his throat, reaching back to retrieve his blade from its resting place on his back as he landed. Just as he stepped forward to imbed his blade into the screeching demon's brain, a blindingly fast downward strike from Yamato's blade took the creature by surprise in much the same way that it had attempted to do with Dante. The demon howled in pain one last time as Vergil slowly sheathed his blade with a ringing click that sent the creature careening to the floor in two halves. Yamato's blade had split it down the middle effortlessly.

The area was once again silent with only the ambient sounds of the underworld to provide any indications of life. The twins were left facing each other surrounded yet again by the corpses of their enemies. Dante shook his head and let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a loud exhale as Vergil looked down at the dead monstrosity at his feet. If the younger twin hadn't known his older brother better, he would have sworn that he had just come to his rescue. Not that he particularly needed it, but it did seem that way. 

Vergil stepped over the fallen demon and walked past Dante, heading in the direction they had been going in before. It was much easier to discern now that they were so close. It was a wall of demonic thorn-covered trees with dead-looking semi translucent black leaves sparsely covering them. The ground looked much like a hardened pyroclastic flow, white glowing vines snaking across the ground as they pulsated with a faint luminescence. Through the treeline, what seemed to be a river snaked through the underbrush against the bottom of a cliff face before flowing over the edge of the plateau the surrounding area was perched on. The deep azure liquid had an almost silver sheen to it that meant that it was almost certainly not water but was mystifying nonetheless.

"I get the idea that you've killed a lot of those." Dante kidded as he caught up with him, noting the way that his brother had effortlessly finished off the Chaos.

Vergil glanced back at him as he approached, slowing slightly as if to allow his brother a chance to catch up. "I lost count or care long before today of how many of those useless pests I've exterminated. They are innumerable and seemingly unending." Vergil spoke in a way that indicated to Dante that he was more than over dealing with these creatures. It was almost funny how sick of them he seemed to be. But considering how long he'd spent dealing with them, it made sense.

After a few minutes of nearly silent walking, they reached the treeline. As Dante stepped forward, Vergil held out his arm, stopping just shy of touching his twin brother. Dante raised an eyebrow at him, but took the hint and halted his movement. Had Vergil changed his mind? Was this the wrong place? Did he hear something? "Change your mind, Vergil?" Dante inquired passively. Whatever the issue was, he hadn't clued into it.

Vergil lowered his arm and tilted his head in the direction of the treeline. They were standing close to one of the red and black thorn-covered trees. "... I'd advise against touching one of these barbed trees."

Dante looked back and forth between Vergil and the trees. Yes, they looked like oversized thorn bushes, but they weren't exactly walking through this place naked. Vergil closed his eyes and exhaled, clueing into his brother's lack of concern. "These are Daturademonica, a relative of the Qliphoth. Only instead of feeding on human blood, they have an unquenchable thirst for the souls of the living. And unlike the Qliphoth, they are sentient."

Sentient demon trees that sucked the souls out of their victims. Just what they needed. "So if these things suck your soul out if you touch them or whatever, what are we doing here?" Dante inquired, totally at a loss for what could possibly be worth going into this deathtrap over.

Vergil took a step towards said deathtrap, assessing the best place to enter. Most of the sharp branches pointed upward, but the trees were still covered in long needle-like thorns. "Because most beings, living or dead, are not unintelligent enough to set foot in this place. We will encounter no meaningful resistance here, aside from the trees themselves." Vergil stepped under a branch, standing slightly to the side to allow Dante to pass him. "Mind the gap," Vergil said almost sarcastically," I believe I've failed to mention that these thorns are razor-sharp and coated with a sedative."

Dante shook his head in amused disbelief and stepped under the branches, following Vergil into the forest of death. Vergil always did have an askew sense of humor. Well, they both did, but that was neither here nor there.

They navigated the underbrush and vines with care. The same vines that snaked across the ground also hung from the tree branches, bringing the deadly spiked appendages closer than comfortable to them in a few instances. Despite their careful navigation, Vergil seemed intent to pass through this area as quickly as possible. Dante ducked around another branch, doing an unintentional double-take when the branch moved back around and placed itself in his path again. That was odd, he hadn't moved that to start with...

"Is there a problem?" Vergil asked, stopping for a moment to turn and make sure that Dante was still following him as closely as he had been before. When he noticed the almost puzzled look on his brother's face, a note of -was that concern?- passed over his face. "Tell me you didn't touch it..." The words were spoken in an almost breathless whisper.

Dante didn't show it outwardly, but he was actually more surprised by Vergil's concern for him than he was thrown off by the tree's unexplained movement. "No, I didn't... do these damn trees move?" Dante looked back and forth between his brother and the tree as he closed the distance between them. 

Vergil stealthily exhaled the breath he hadn't noticed that he was holding and waited for him. That could have ended decidedly worse. "Did I not say moments ago that they were sentient?"

Dante shrugged as they resumed walking. "I didn't think you meant that they could move Vergil! I thought they could tell we were here or something."

After a few hurried moments of walking, Vergil stopped and ducked under one of the branches. "This entire forest functions as a sort of venus flytrap. The Daturademonica can discern our location, based off of where we walk. If given an opportunity, they will attempt to strike. But no matter. We've reached the clearing."

Dante followed his brother under the branch and into the clearing, making sure to stand clear of the trees. Keeping his soul inside of his body wasn't exactly low on his list of priorities. He looked out across the clearing and took in their surroundings. The once distant cliff was now only a few yards away, a small indent in it forming an enclosure just shy of a cave. There was a substance covering the ground that was reminiscent of grass, except it was grey and possessed a texture somewhat similar to moss. The water seemed to have an audible hum to it now that they were close enough to hear it, which was more than a little strange considering that it was a liquid, but it still maintained the same intense shine that it had when Dante had seen it from the entrance before.

It was all very beautiful in a haunting sort of way.

While the youngest Son of Sparda had been taking in his surroundings, the eldest of the two had repositioned himself at the edge of the river with his back to his twin. After an uncomfortably long moment of intense silence, things were starting to become uncomfortable. Vergil was staring quietly at the "water", seemingly lost in thought and it was clear that he had something to say that he wasn't saying. Dante sighed and approached him. What was the worst thing that could happen?

Well... best not find out the answer to that one...

"Should I even ask if this water is drinkable," Dante inquired as he kneeled over his twin. Vergil's eyes glanced up briefly to acknowledge his presence, but he didn't budge from his position.

"... I don't want you to be trapped down here with me."

Dante scoffed at the suddenness of his brother's statement. It was inevitable that they would have this "conversation" at some point, but right now? "You probably don't, but you need me to be." Dante knew that his statement was painfully true. There's was a complicated relationship indeed, and neither of them really comprehended the unending toxic nature of it. And at this point, they had stopped trying to. They were about ready to just accept it as a fact.

Vergil sighed in what seemed to be mild annoyance. "You have other more important things that should be occupying your time. I can find my way around down here just fine."

Dante almost laughed at the statement. Oh, really? "That doesn't change the fact that the last time I left you down here you ended up a slave to your mortal enemy and then I had to kill you," Dante felt a wave of revulsion wash over him at the very thought," Oh, and you took up the most deadly gardening hobby I've ever seen! How could I forget?"

Vergil let out a low growl of annoyance at the statement and stood up to face his younger twin, his rapid response giving off a level of hostility that he didn't intend. "You don't need to remind me, Dante. I haven't forgotten."

Dante held up his hands as if to stop his brother. "I know that. But I'm not going anywhere your not going, Vergil. I've done that for decades and it's a worse hell than this cursed forest we're standing in!"

Vergil shifted in discomfort and let a long bothered sigh. "I don't belong in the human world, and you know it. Let's not lie." 

Dante fanned his arms at his sides, flexing in irritation. "You don't belong down here, either. Nothing good has happened to you since you fell down here when we were kids. And besides, you have plenty waiting for you up there, too." Dante gestured up towards the sky for emphasis. On that note, was the underworld even technically below the human world if they were in two different planes of existence? Nevermind, that was beside the point.

"I'd ask you to give me one good reason I should return to the human realm, Dante, but I don't think you have one" Vergil was clearly incensed by. It was a rare moment of pure emotion, though Dante could tell it was borne of something other than just anger. To say that Vergil was emotionally complicated was an understatement, but Dante wasn't going to just drop this and leave him down here alone again. It would be the ruin of them both.

"Give you a reason," Dante grumbled through almost clenched teeth," I could give you two reasons, Vergil, but I don't know if it would do any good."

Vergil stared at him in silence for a long moment before looking away. His posture slowly migrated into an almost defeated slump before he spoke again. "What then, brother? What then?" There was no anger in the words as he spoke them under his breath. Vergil would never admit it, but he was tired. He had been fighting everything and anything nearly his entire life. But as of late, he was losing the tolerance to argue with his brother. In their time apart, Dante had grown and become difficult to argue down; more sure in his resolve than he had seemingly once been. It was impressive but troublesome how difficult it now was to push his once eager to fight twin past the breaking point.

Dante exhaled slowly and, in an action that took Vergil slightly off guard, he extended his arm and placed his hand on his older twin's shoulder, shaking him gently. Vergil looked up at him and they locked gazes. After a moment of shared silence, Dante's unspoken point seemed to sink in. There were no words adequate to express what the youngest of Sparda's sons wanted to convey. "... Look, Vergil... If you won't do it for me or yourself, I get that." Dante sighed almost dejectedly," But if you won't do it for our sake... then do it for Nero's. He doesn't know you can do better, and he's not going to if you stay down here and run from your mistakes for the rest of your life."

Vergil stared at his brother blandly and visibly swallowed, chewing on the inside of his jaw as he closed his eyes and pulling away from him. He stood with his back to his brother in silence with his arms folded, looking out across the haunting expanses of the underworld. For the first time in a long time, Vergil was visibly shaken and upset. Dante had managed to strike a never he didn't even realize he possessed until now. Dante stared at his back, waiting for him to respond. He had to eventually.

A minute passed like this. The two. Then three. The discomfort only grew more volatile the longer the silence lingered. Finally, after what had to be a solid ten minutes, Vergil unfolded his arms and lowered them to his sides. He gripped Yamato's scabbard tightly in his hand but didn't move to draw it. This wasn't something he could fight with a blade, and that was perhaps the thing that unnerved him the most. The eldest Son of Sparda inhaled and then, after a long moment, exhaled in one long slow breath.

"... Do you think Nero would even talk to me? After everything I've done?"

Dante could practically feel the pain and despair in his twin brother's question. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Vergil had let his carefully cultivated shell crack, and the repressed feelings that he had been holding onto for so long were starting to slip through. Dante was taken aback, but he stepped forward and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder again. "You have to ask him that. I've got some things to answer for as far as he's concerned, too."

Vergil waited a moment before he spoke." He has no idea of the depths of my depravity, does he, Dante?"

Dante shook his head. "I conveniently left that part out when I told him about you being his old man after what happened with V." Dante paused when Vergil visually recoiled at the mention of that name. That entire situation was a bit unclear to him, but it seemed to deeply upset his twin. "Speaking of that, should I even ask who V really is and what the hell really happened to him. I mean, he was literally falling apart. Did you have something to do with that?"

Vergil looked like he wanted to avoid this topic even more than he wanted to face Nero again. "... Everything unfortunate that has ever happened to that child is probably my fault," Vergil snickered morbidly. "It is unfortunate that we ever crossed paths. Much like Nero, he was better off without me involved in his life..."

Dante shook his head. "You've got some prior with him, hu? How'd that happen?"

Vergil stared at him with a facial expression somewhere between discomfort and trepidation. Dante stared at him in confusion before transitioning to shocked disbelief. "...Vergil... you didn't... is he..."

Vergil stepped back and turned away from him, shifting Yamato into his dominant hand. His lack of an answer said everything it needed to. Dante sighed in disbelief. His brother wasn't normally so reckless. Or so he thought. Vergil unsheathed the demonic katana and cut a cross in the air in front of him, sheathing the blade as a portal opened before them. "... That is... a matter for another time. For now, we should leave before I change my mind."

Dante shook out of his disbelief and allowed elation to overwhelm him. Did he just hear his brother wrong, or was he insinuating that he was willing to return? "You're coming back with me after all then?

Vergil nodded once. "Hurry up before I come to my senses."

Dante wasted no time. His questions could wait until they were home and then he could get the answers to his pressing questions. He crossed the distance between them in an instance, waiting for Vergil to step through the portal before him. The Youngest Son of Sparda was many things, but he wasn't stupid enough to let Vergil come through the portal last. After all, the last time he went through a portal, Vergil had chosen to stay behind. But this time would be different. After all, there wasn't too much room to go lower from here, was there?

Vergil took a tentative breath, before stepping towards the portal. But before he could have second thoughts, the wind was promptly knocked out of him as he was firmly kicked in the back through the portal. He flew through the portal to whatever place was on the other side, disappearing behind the reflective black surface of the mirror-like portal.

"That's for breaking my damn sword, Vergil," Dante said with a slight laugh. And with that, he walked through the portal and into the unknown to join his brother. For the first time in a long time, they were in this together.

-~-

Thanks for reading the Prologue! The next chapter will be available very soon, and you can read it here and in the links in my bio. Have a wonderful day and stay safe!


	2. Chapter One: Advent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the 70 people who read the prologue! This chapter is for you guys! I'd love to dedicate some chapters to you guys, but I don't have any comments to respond to! Comment so I can thank you properly! That means you too, you wonderful anons!

Chapter One: Advent

Stepping through the portal that Vergil had cut through the fabric of time and space was perhaps the most disorienting thing that Dante had experienced in his entire life. Well, maybe that was an understatement. Everything about being on Malet Island had been a massive trip into a new dimension of confusion and headaches. But this was a very close second. Everything seemed to go faster than it normally did but, at the same time, things were slow enough to take in and try to comprehend. It was a blur of bright light that fluctuated from blisteringly bright to suffocatingly dark that seemed to transcend time and space itself. And that was probably because it did transcend time and space itself.

Oh, and it was probably the most nauseating experience Dante had gone through in a long time.

As quickly as it had started, it ended. Although experience had taken less than a few seconds, it had felt more like a minute. Dante landed feet first on the cobblestone pavement, his head swaying slightly before he shook it to regain his senses. He stretched before looking around to gain a bearing on his location. Vergil was in the process of standing up and brushing himself off, as he hadn’t landed quite as gracefully as he normally did. Being kicked in the back spartan style through a tear in reality tended to do that to a person.

“Dang it,” Dante scoffed, trying and failing to repress a playful snicker,” I was hoping you’d land on your sword. You know, see what it feels like for yourself for once.”

Vergil straightened his coat and turned around to face Dante. He couldn’t have looked more unamused if he tried to. “Oh, I am very aware of what it feels like, brother.”

Dante shook his head and let out a short laugh. “How’d that happen? You stab yourself with your own sword?!”

Vergil didn’t answer his brother’s rhetorical question. Instead, he opted to just stare at him blankly, his silence saying everything that it needed to given the context of the situation. After a moment Dante slowly stopped laughing and stared back at him, a look somewhere disbelief and confusion crossing his face. “... Wow… um, yea... You need professional help, Vergil. That’s… that’s pretty messed up. You okay?”

In an unflinching display of unamused irritation, Vergil shook his head once. “Absolutely not.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. The alley they stood in was a veritable audio sink. Barely any ambient noise from the nearby road traveled far enough down this dead-end inlet to pierce the uncomfortable silence. Though neither of the twins would ever admit it, they were starting to notice how bad they were at basic conversation with one another. It was actually astounding how quickly almost every conversation they had turned to an unpleasant experience that dwelled on topics neither of them wanted to relive. Dante shifted in discomfort, switching his center of gravity back and forth between his left and right feet. He shook his head and sighed, looking down at the pavement for a moment before looking back up at this troubled brother again. What on earth went through his twin’s mind sometimes. “Seriously Vergil, you okay?”

The eldest Son of Sparda gave his brother a thoughtful look before turning to walk towards the end of the alley. Dante opted to follow him, coming to the conclusion that he had reached his tolerance for genuine progress with his brother today. Vergil didn’t seem to be equipped to deal with continuous emotional conversation, and Dante wasn’t going to try and force him. He’d made it a decent amount of time without finding Yamato embedded in his sternum, and his older twin had shown an unusually high amount of restraint in not putting it there.

The twins stepped out onto the main sidewalk and were greeted by the blinding light of the early morning sun peeking over the rooftops of the adjacent street. A stray car or two passed on either side of the road, contributing to what little noise there was to be heard. Rows of attached business lined the street, some with apartments above them. A few quaint townhouses were squeezed in between the shops; a few planters with thin birch trees sprouting from them lined the sidewalks providing a comfortable amount of shade to pedestrians. The smell of salty water permeated the air as a light breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. It was almost picturesque.

They both stood there quietly for a moment, silently taking in the calm. It was the first time in a long time that they had experienced this kind of quiet serenity. The first time in an immeasurably long time that they had just enjoyed silence the presence of each other’s company. Vergil glanced around the street, taking in the area. Just as he did, the vintage brass streets lights flickered off, their automated timer taking note of the ambient light level. Something seemed to occur to him, causing him to stop and turn to his younger twin. “Where are we then?” He spoke plainly, seemingly trying to change the subject from their previous conversation. Dante decided to chalk it up as a loss for now and simply move on. There would be another time. They had plenty of time.

He glanced up and down the street, taking in their surroundings. This area seemed vaguely familiar to him. He could almost sware that he had been here before, but wasn’t sure how recently or for what purpose. This wasn’t a part of town he spent much time in, but at least he knew what town they were in. “Capulet. Pretty sure this is Capulet.”

Vergil nodded slowly, seeming considering this for a moment. “Which way then?”

Dante shrugged obtusely. “Can’t say for sure. I don’t spend much time down by the waterfront. I live further inland from here. You know, where all the crime is.”

Vergil scoffed at the comment, shaking his head. His twin brother really was something else, wasn’t he? Before he could enquire as to possible context clues or landmarks they could use to regain their bearings, Dante stepped forward and looked down the long street towards the right, nodding in confirmation to himself as if he’d figured something out. He casually started to walk in the direction he was facing, gesturing over his shoulder for Vergil to follow him as he headed away from where they had just been. “It’s this way. Now I recognize this place. Had a run-in with an interesting demon on a foggy morning a while back around here. Tried to take my head off with two blades,” He kept a steady pace up the street as Vergil caught up with him in the blink of an eye,” There’s a park up this way. It’s basically the center of town. Once we get there, I can tell where we are.”

With that, the pair walked briskly towards the end of the block, crossing the oversized roundabout that surrounded the square into the park. The lush greenery of the hedges that surrounded the park was bordered by a tall wrought iron fence. Each of the four crosswalks that connected to this central park area was aligned with entry gates for ease of foot traffic flow, so they didn’t have any issues finding a way in. The twins entered the park and followed the path into the central plaza where they both came to a stop for a moment to figure out their current position.

“We need to go this way, Vergil. Vergil?”

Just as Dante was going to question his brother’s silence and explain that they should go north from here towards the upper part of the hillside to reach his office, he stopped. Something had seemingly drawn Vergil’s attention, as he was standing slightly off to the side, only half facing him. Dante allowed his gaze to follow his older brother’s and then stopped once his eyes landed at the object of Vergil’s fascination.

Fuck… How on earth had he forgotten about the statue?

Capulet City was well known in the region for a few unfortunate happenings over the years, a status that had now been totally dwarfed by the calamitous Redgrave City Disaster. While being the resting place of the once again slumbering Temen-ni-gru was nothing to scoff at, and Abigale’s fires had raged for several days after the gargantuan demon had lit the town ablaze during his attack, being a mecca for demonic activity was, while an unattractive trait for a city to possess, a totally different thing entirely from having an entire city literally turned inside out from the tectonic plates up. But, one of the few good things the city was known for was this park and its towering onyx statue of the Dark Knight Sparda astride his dark steed, a horse that, in retrospect, was almost certainly a Geryon. People came from far and wide to take pictures of the monument the city had erected to the dark knight over the now filled in hole where Temen-ni-gru had once emerged from the earth. And in the process of trying to find their way home, Dante had completely forgotten that the stature was here as he had grown so accustomed to seeing it over the years that he didn’t even register it as he passed by it today. To be succinct, there were several things about this park that he had put out of his day to day thoughts, this fine piece of craftsmanship included.

Vergil seemed to be taking a moment to consider it, having not set foot here during or since it’s construction over a decade ago. The art installation’s significance was not lost on the eldest Son of Sparda, nor was it’s geographic location. They could both sense the demonic tower below them, a powerful reminder of the underworld’s never-ending connection to the human world. But then again, nothing about their father was lost on him. Not his legend, not his legacy, and most certainly his bottomless grief at his sudden and unexplained disappearance. They were all things he still carried with him and would never shed; a forthright burdon anchoring him firmly in all things that he did. Vergil shifted his gaze downward and then away from the monolith, quietly dispelling the profound internal battle that he would never win for now.

It was a simple, immutable fact that he still mourned their father’s loss and always would. He just hadn’t dwelled on it in a long while now.

Dante didn’t need to say anything. Interrupting his brother’s train of thought to garner the answer to a question that he already knew the answer too would be utterly pointless and unkind, and this was one silence he was willing to wait out for the sake of its importance. After what felt like a decade, Vergil finally turned back to his brother and joined him at his side, eager to leave this place and his unbridled feelings of grief behind him. He drifted past Dante as he approached, not making eye contact. “... Which way is it then? Or are we still lost?”

The younger twin pointed towards the northwest, taking a mental note of Vergil’s understandably unaccommodating mood. “It’s up there, probably about a mile or so. If we’re lucky, we might make it before one of the girls burns it down in a fit of rage or something.”

Vergil didn’t speak. He simply nodded in silence and followed Dante in the correct direction. Despite the fact that they were just traversing normal human streets, he couldn’t have felt more out of his element if he’s tried. It was the first time in a long time that he’d simply walked somewhere and something hadn’t jumped out and tried to kill him. And he didn’t have the emotion reserves left to contemplate how that made him feel right now.

-~-

The front of the office was surprisingly just as Dante had left it. The doors were still attached for once and the front windows were still intact. The only notable difference was the lack of light coming from the sign out front. It was only then that something occurred to the younger twin: how long had they been gone? It had only felt like a day or two, but unless the sign had shorted out (again) then they had been gone a little longer than he’s originally thought.

“So um Vergil,” Dante started as they approached the front steps,” About how long do you think we were gone?”  
Vergil stopped as if to consider the question for a moment. He’d been quiet for about fifteen minutes now, more than likely still lingering on his internal baggage. “That could be rather hard to tell. Much like the human world, time works in zones in the underworld. The time discrepancies are just a bit more… pronounced in some places than they are here. Some parts of the underworld are stagnant and don’t have time at all. Some don’t even have a day and night cycle. And they are all prone to shift under certain circumstances.”

Dante sighed. “So we could have been gone ten minutes or ten years for all we know. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Vergil shook his head. “Let me clarify. At best, we’ve been gone a few days, at most a few weeks. Volatile as the underworld’s perception of time maybe, I can’t think of a region where time distorts quite that far in the timespan of fewer than three days.”

Dante shrugged as they started up the front steps. “Nothing I can do about it now. But I guess that explains why you kinda look younger than me now, at least.”

Before Vergil could retort, a faint male voice on the other side of the door could be heard. It was unfamiliar to him. The voice was accompanied by the sounds of two other female voices from what his keen sense of hearing could pick up, but he couldn’t discern any of the owners. From what he could make out, the man was saying something about the rent not being free and him having the deed to something. 

Dante smirked and shook his head, snickering under his breath. This was no mystery to him. “Good to see that they are still hanging around.”

Just as Vergil was going to ask what Dante was going on about, the doors to the front of the office burst open, and out came one of three people came out. Vergil was correct in his assumptions of their genders from what he could tell, but the man he didn’t recognize at all. The man stopped dead in his tracks and let out a loud, clearly overjoyed laugh. “Well, I’ll be damn! Where the hell have you been for so long, Dante!”

At the mention of Dante’s name, the two women who were just stepping through the doorway (presumably walking a short distance behind him) raced ahead and stopped dead in their tracks. In unison, both of them shouted Dante’s name, shock, concern, and disbelief heavy in their tone. The trio stepped forward and immediately set upon the youngest Son of Sparda, greeting him happily. The one with the black hair that Vergil now recognized as Arkham’s daughter (though he couldn’t remember her name) Immediately batted at him in frustration. “You crazy bastard! I was starting to think you weren’t coming back!”

The well-dressed man in the hat reached up and removed it, clasping it in his hand as he laughed a the scene unfolding in front of him. Dante seemed to be about three seconds shy of catching a bullet from his younger friend. She was clearly less than amused with his leave of absence.

“You’ve been gone for six weeks, Dante,” A familiar voice spoke,” I was just starting to wonder I you were coming back myself...”

Vergil felt a barely contained barrage of complex emotions hit him at the sight of the blond devil. Her presence truly took him off guard in the worst way possible. He wasn’t sure if he was showing his seething rage, and he’s wasn’t entirely sure if he cared at this moment in time either. Though no one had seemingly noticed his presence quite yet as he was standing at the bottom of the stairs and slightly behind his brother. But he recognized her anywhere. How could he forget such an instrumental person from his time on Malet Island?

“What the girls are trying to say is that you have perfect timing because we were just having a little conversation about this,” The older gentleman produced a white envelope from his pocket and returned it to Dante in one elegant movement, still laughing to himself as he did so. 

Dante shook his head and allowed a smirk to cross his face. “You guys are just the worst, ya know that. I mean, I take a vacation for a few weeks and you figure I’m not coming back?” There was a tone of humor to his jest that was immediately lost when he glanced back over his shoulder and recalled the fact that Vergil was still with him. And that he looked undeniably pissed. It wasn’t something that anyone else but him would probably pick up on, but it didn’t slip past him for a second. “Um, Vergil?”

Three additional sets of eyes followed Dante to his brother as he said his name, just noticing him for the first time in their excitement. Lady looked shocked, to say the least, Morrison was looking back and forth between the twins in obvious bewilderment and Trish… well, Trish and Vergil were making what was perhaps the most uncomfortable eye contact of their respective lives. Vergil seemed to be looking into her more than he was at her, obviously thinking rather intensely and Trish was returning his stare, albeit with a look of caution akin to the sort that you would give a big cat that looked ready to attack if you approached it in the wild.

It took Dante all of about three milliseconds to figure out what the issue was here and, although he didn’t understand the history behind it, he wasn’t stupid enough to be ignorant of the notion that Trish and Vergil had prior. And he also wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that Vergil was very clearly considering entering devil trigger and ripping her throat out with his bare hands. Dante carefully placed himself just close enough between them that it made further action on either of their ends unfeasible and he shot Vergil a look, clearly asking him what was going on. Trish took the opportunity to step towards the others and give the twins a parting look, silent trepidation evident in her gaze. “... We were just leaving. Let’s have this conversation later.”

Dante wasn’t sure which of them she was actually addressing, but he didn’t get much time to think about it as, as if from nowhere, a loud screech split through the air. Everyone stopped and turned their head in the direction of the van that had just pulled up, missing the stairs and the side of the building by mere centimeters. Dante would’ve laughed at the awful timing if it might not have been the spark that could set everything alight. He heard a car door open and then slam shut on the opposite side of the car and then a familiar face stepped around the front of the car. The white-haired young man stopped dead in his tracks as if he had just been slammed face-first into an invisible brick wall. He stared in evident shock, wide-eyed at the sight before him before taking a decided far left into instantaneous, unbridled rage, his casual demeanor shattering like glass. At that, Dante let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and chuckled to himself under his breath. Nero really was Vergil’s son, wasn’t he? “Hey, Nero…”

The younger white-haired man shot him a look of white-hot seething rage mixed with other emotions he couldn’t quite place, but he knew they were probably bad nonetheless. Oh shit.

“Dante,” Nero shouted at the top of his lungs,” What the fuck is this bullshit?!”

And then he triggered.

… Oh shit...


	3. Chapter Two: Reparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thank you all for reading the first two parts of the story! I’m so touched by the reception the story has received from the fanbase! A huge thank you to Mallovarwen from FF.N and BeansWithBones as well as That_Random_Kid. Your comment, in particular, cracked me up and I spent several minutes laughing at it as I spent a late night working on this chapter to get this done on time. Thanks a bunch! That was just what I needed today. This chapter is for the three of you. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Two: Reparations

Was it possible for things to escalate any quicker than they just had? Not likely. In one single, fluid motion, Nero launched himself across the space between the van and the front steps. He grabbed Dante and Vergil by the face with his wing talons, slamming them back first into the stairs with devastating power. The sheer force of the impact was so strong that it completely stunned Dante, mentally and physically. Vergil, on the other hand, was taken completely off guard by this attack. In his state of immense anger towards the blond demoness, he had barely registered his son’s arrival before he found himself becoming violently acquainted with the front steps of his new home. 

The eldest Son of Sparda jumped to his feet almost as quickly as he had been snatched off of them, somehow even angrier than he had been moments ago. He made the rapid and decisive decision to skip any and all conversation and go straight to violence, unsheathing Yamato and tossing away the scabbard in a rare act of absolution. He wasn’t going to need it for what he planned to do next.

Unsure as to what the commotion was all about, Nico was just about to exit the van as the girls and Morrison onboarded, shouting for her to get clear. There was about to be enough collateral damage as it was, and they didn’t feel like adding the wily mechanic or her mobile workspace to that list. Or themselves, for that matter. Nico slammed the gas and threw the clutch into reverse, launching the van backward at a speed rapid enough to give everyone within it whiplash and vertigo simultaneously. And her timing couldn’t have been any better considering what happened next.

Nero unsheathed his beloved sword Red Queen from his back and revved the exceed throttle in both a preparatory action and a not so playful taunt. The blade glowed a vibrant red, the once gleaming metal now searing hot and ready to melt anything in its path like butter. Vergil’s own blade glowed a sinister shade of dark blue before bursting into blinding black and blue flames as he entered his own Devil Trigger state. The two descendants of Sparda leered at one another ragefully before launching themselves at jet propelled speeds towards one another, their flame coated blades connecting in an earth (and ear) shattering display of destructive power. Blue and red flames blasted skyward and out across the pavement in a wide arc around them, scorching everything in their path. The attack carried a powerful shockwave with it a half-second later, rattling the windows of several nearby buildings and vehicles. Dante shook his head, his ears and head still ringing from Nero’s initial slam attack. He leaped to his feet and over the wall of flames that would have stopped just shy of the front door to the office, and landed out of harm’s way. The younger Son of Sparda cracked his neck (mostly to relocate it) and groaned, shaking his head as he entered the fray. He needed to stop this before they leveled a whole city block or killed each other. Or more importantly, destroyed his office. Again.

Vergil and Nero planted their taloned feet into the cobblestone ground, tearing it up out of the earth as they pushed hard against one another, blades locked and sparking from the sheer friction of the contact between them. As Vergil bore down on the younger man, Nero slammed his blade against Yamato’s hard, breaking their blade connection and stepping backward, using the brief window provided by the lack of contact to deliver a brutal double footed kick to his father’s chest. The eldest twin flew back and slammed against the pavement, cracking several pavers and peeling them up as he slid against the hard ground. Vergil exhaled sharply, gritting his razor-sharp demonic teeth as he rapidly regained his footing and surged forward again, recalling Yamato’s sheath to his free hand. Okay, so maybe he was going to need it after all...

He slashed the blade down towards the broadside of Nero’s blade and the younger man blocked it, sliding back a few feet from the force of the sliding charge attack. Suddenly, Vergil rapidly sheathed the blade and withdrew it again, a black ball of darkness and precision cuts rocketing towards Nero. The youngest descent of Sparda stepped wide to avoid the phantom slashes, noting that Vergil now stood directly in his path. How on earth had he just done that?! Vergil pressed towards him with a deadly barrage of thrusts and slashes that he just barely withstood, his eyes not even remotely able to keep up with every swipe. For every perceivable movement, there seemed to be several dozen more slashes that he couldn’t process, his father’s movements causing an afterimage that was disorienting and hard to combat. He needed to act. Now! 

Nero pushed forward and broke loose as he slashed upwards, launching them both skyward. He pirouetted in a series of arcing upward slashes, gaining additional altitude before using one of his demonic wing arms to grasp Vergil around the waist and send him careening towards the ground at speeds nearly fast enough to cause reentry burn. As soon as the older twin made impact with the cobblestone street, Nero streaked downward in a barreling spin, slamming down on him. Vergil managed to counter the attack at the very last second and sent Nero spiraling back into the side of the stone staircase, his back making impact with the wrought iron bars and bending them with a loud metal screech. Nero yelped, exiting his Devil Trigger as he gasped for breath in surprise and discomfort. If he were a weaker being, he would probably have just broken several bones from that impact alone. Just as Vergil was closing the space between them, Dante sent a shockwave comprised of several red beams of demonic energy slamming into him at a blistering speed, knocking his twin flat onto his back. Vergil sat up and moved to collect himself, but found his younger twin standing in front of him. Dante planted his boot firmly against Vergil’s chest, forcing him onto his back on the pavement again with enough force to shake a few more bricks loose. The twin in red then pointed his blade down at him and his gun in Nero’s general direction, not so subtly implying that this fight was now over and that he was ready to take either of them to task if they attempted to resume it.

“Alright, enough of this already!” Dante yelled at them both. He was clearly not amused. “Nero, feel like telling me why the hell I probably have a concussion right now?!”

Nero groaned in irritation and attempted to peel himself out of the metal bars that he found himself embedded into. No such luck. “Gee, I don’t know, Dante,” He yelled back, clearly no less pissed than when this had all started,” Maybe because I just body slammed your sorry ass head first through your front steps?! Because if I was in a guessing mood, I’d say that’s why your empty head probably hurts right now!”

Dante let out a sound somewhere between a growl and snarl and fired a round from Ebony up into the air, for once not entertained by his nephew’s spitfire attitude. Maybe it was the rapid onset of the massive headache that he could feel creeping its way into his head (and the gunfire that had just made it several times worse), but he was not in the mood for this shit right now. “I’m not playing around, Nero. What the hell is your damage this time? You have a few screws loose or something?”

The young man with the white hair used both of his hands to pry the bars apart and slipped loose, using his newfound freedom to stand up and approach Dante. He left Red Queen laying on the ground, but the younger Son of Sparda kept his guard up. The younger man more than likely had Blue Rose on himself somewhere. He came to a stop less than three feet from his uncle, breathing heavily and probably still banged up from his rapid meet and greet with gravity a few moments ago. “What’s my damage, Dante?” Nero retorted defiantly,” Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been gone for like two fucking months and I thought you were dead! Or maybe the fact that this asshole,” Nero gestured towards his father who was still firmly planted under Dante’s boot on the ground,” is just walking around like he didn’t unleash some blood-sucking demon plant from hell and destroy a whole goddamn city because he got bored or upset or some shit! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, how crazy shit has been since you jumped your crazy ass into hell and left me up here to fix everything?! Any idea how much sleep I’ve lost wondering if your stupid old ass was ever coming back?!”

Nero leaned forward and put a hand on his upper thigh, breathing more rapidly and unsteadily than he had been a moment before. He reached up with his free hand and wiped his eyes, trailing the shimmering remnants of tears he hadn’t yet shed across his face. He trembled ever so slightly before looking back up at Dante, the tears he had tried to blink away now running freely down his face in thin ribbons. He sniffed, trying to regain his composure but failing before the anger left him and he spoke in a quieter, more anguished tone of voice. “... Do you have any idea how worried about you I’ve been, Dante?” Nero was clearly on the verge of falling apart as he spoke. He was well past his emotional limit for the day.” I thought I was never going to see you again, you fucking prick! You can’t just pull some shit like that and leave me here alone!”

Any and all anger and irritation that Dante had left in him dissipated instantly. Nero’s trembling intensified and he shuddered, trying and failing to compose himself. He wiped his face yet again in an attempt to hide the fact that he was near to breaking down and crying, but any hope of hiding how he truly felt was completely gone at this point. Dante felt a powerful wave of guilt wash over him as he took a step forward and placed his hand on his nephew’s shoulder, completely at a loss for words. “... Nero…”

In a move that took Dante totally off guard, Nero misinterpreted his attempt to calm him for an invitation and embraced him, burying his tear-stained face into the older man’s shoulder. Now free of the ability to see Dante’s reaction, he allowed himself to release his emotions fully, stifling his pained sobs against his uncle’s battle-worn leather coat. Dante stood for a moment in surprise before opting to give the younger man a few tentative pats on the shoulder. He had never seen Nero so upset and he wasn’t at all equipped to deal with this. But regardless, he hated knowing he had caused this.

Vergil had risen to his feel once again during the commotion, having been freed from his place under his twin’s boot. Although he wanted to be furious with him for what he had just done, the eldest Son of Sparda found himself incapable of doing so. He found himself mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him, unsure of how to proceed or process how he felt about seeing Nero in such a state. He felt… something, but he wasn’t sure what word to put to it, and that made him uncomfortable, to say the least. Thankfully, after a long, painful moment, Nero collected himself and pulled away from Dante, thoroughly done with this entire situation. He turned away and walked towards the front steps, sitting down on them and letting out a long, steadying breath before making eye contact with his uncle again. “... Just don’t pull something like that again, or I’ll come down there and personally beat your ass myself. You got it?”

Dante shook his head and scoffed lightly, a look of semi sad bemusement crossing his face. “Whatever you say, kid.”

Nero growled and pointed at him as if to emphasize his point. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that shit, old man?! We’ve been through this!”

Dante laughed as Nero groaned in displeasure. The younger man then turned to Vergil who was watching his whole debacle, entirely lost as to what to say or do at this point. “And as for you, douchebag,” Nero said in a manner so matter of fact that the casual passer-by might actually mistake that was his father’s name,” What the fuck do you think you’re doing back here after all that shit you pulled in Redgrave?”

Vergil repressed the urge to roll his eyes, half amused and half befuddled by his son’s outrageous behavior. “My apologies, but every reservation in the underworld was taken, so I had to resort to plan B.”

Nero stared at Vergil, thoroughly unamused by his father’s answer. He glanced towards Dante and gestured towards Vergil, disregarding the older twin’s sarcastic comeback. “Does he actually think he’s funny?”

Dante chuckled under his breath, shrugging playfully. “Who knows? You’d have to ask him. I hope not, though, because he’s definitely not.”

“Quiet. Both of you.” Vergil virtually growled at them both as he headed towards the steps,” I’ve had enough pleasantries for one lifetime. If I am not mistaken, before this little mishap occurred, you were going to show me around, were you not, Dante?”

Dante held up his hands in an act of surrender before following his twin to the bottom of the steps. Nero took his sweet time standing up, clearly trying to test Vergil’s already depleted patience reserves. After he moved, Nero glanced over at the van. It had lodged itself in a corner between the Devil May Cry agency building and the building it was connected to diagonally. The seemingly indestructible vehicle had more than likely lodged itself there during the blast. Morrison and the girls were disembarking. Going to check on them seemed like a decent idea. “You're just mad you lost again.” He said as he headed over towards the car.

Vergil glanced back over his shoulder, clearly incensed by the comment. “I won’t lose next time, child.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say.” Nero shouted over his shoulder before jogging off towards the van. Vergil leered in disapproval before turning back towards his twin. Dante was repressing a snicker. “You’re the reason he’s like this, you do realize that.”

At that comment, Dante burst into an almost hysterical fit of laughter. “Oh no, he was like that when I found him, Vergil! That attitude is all your fault! I guess the hardass gene comes from your side of the gene pool.”

Vergil shook his head and spared Nero a final glance before stepping towards the front door. “Just open the godforsaken front door, Dante!”

-~-

For the first time in what seemed like decades, the front office was actually clean. Considering the fact that Lady and Trish had more than likely been waiting here for Dante to return, that wasn’t too shocking to the youngest Son of Sparda, but it still wasn’t something he was accustomed to seeing. It wasn’t so much that he hated to clean (which he kind of did) or that he enjoyed living in squalor, it was just that he rather do literally anything else than tidy up around the office. His desk was still in the exact same place that he’d left it, and no effort had been put into redecorating since he’d left. Even the seemingly indestructible jukebox was still functional. Well, presumably. There was no power at the moment, so they couldn’t check.

While Dante checked his desk to make sure that everything was still in order, Vergil stalked around the office. The eldest of the two twins seemed to be examining the space quietly, assessing things for himself. Considering the events of the last few minutes -if not the last few days- Dante was just glad that things were so calm once again. It was good for his mental state. And the headache that he still hadn’t shaken.

Thanks, Nero.

As if he had heard his name called or something, the front doors to the office opened a moment later and in walked Nero, seemingly calm and collected again. Despite the emotionally charged fight that had taken place less than fifteen minutes prior, he seemed to be in high spirits. But then again, beating the ever-loving hell out of Vergil did that to a person sometimes. He dared even call it therapeutic. 

The younger man walked across the room and placed his blade onto one of the weapon mounts on the wall before flopping down into the desk chair, folding his legs up onto the desk. Dante gave him a sideways glance, razing an eyebrow before grabbing the back of the chair and catapulting Nero from it, sending the white-haired youth rolling across the floor. Nero collected himself and stood up, repressing the urge to snicker to himself at Dante’s response. Somehow he just knew he’d do something like that. “Ya know, you could’ve just asked me to stand up.”

Dante spared him a glance from his position at the desk. He had taken Nero’s place in the chair and was filing through a stack of old mail, shaking his head at the number of bills he’d received. “Oh, I know I could’ve.”

Nero scoffed playfully and walked over to one of the couches, flopping down onto it. He stretched his arms out over his head and let his legs hang over the armrest, seemingly making himself comfortable. A moment later, every electronic device in the house came roaring back to life, producing a litany of loud noises. Vergil glanced up from his current place on the stairs, his eyes scanning the space for the source of the noise. After locating it, he filed past Nero on the couch and walked over to the tv. It was older, perhaps some sort of cathode display? Regardless, Vergil didn’t plan on watching it, and the noise was interrupting his otherwise serene mood.

The younger man raised his head and glanced over at Vergil, semi startled by his presence. “Where the hell were you this whole time? The bathroom?”

Vergil didn’t bother to look up from his place in front of the tv. “I do not know where the bathroom even is in this place, child.”

Nero was going to make a snarky comeback when a thought occurred to him. He turned to face Dante, the older man still going through his mail with a discontent look on his face. “Hey, Dante, I have a question.”

Dante spared him a quick glance before returning his focus to the envelopes. Some of them had past-due notices on them in red letters. Wonderful. “You and me both. For starters, how the hell is the power even on right now? I have at least twelve power bills in this stack alone with past due stickers on them!”

Nero stood up and headed past Dante’s office towards the back kitchen. Now that the power was on, he could find the refrigerator. “Don’t worry about that. I had Morrison take care of it on his way out of town. Said something about him and the others needing to check something out in the next town over. Nico’s checking out the van. She’ll probably be in soon.”

A look of surprise crossed Dante’s face at the younger man’s statement. He glanced between Nero and the pile of bills on the table, shuffling them until he located the most recent bill. He scanned over it briefly and then glanced back over at Nero, somehow even more bewildered than he had been a moment ago. “You know she’s going to kill you for that, right?”

Nero returned to the room empty-handed. The kitchen had been a bust. The closest thing to food in this house were the two empty pizza boxes on the front desk. Somehow he was more irritated with himself for expecting a different outcome than he was about the fact that he was practically starving to death from the lack of sustenance. “It’s fine, I talked to her about it. The water and gas should be back on, too. Just keep your fucking bills paid this time, damn it!”

Dante shook his head in disbelief before shooting Nero an appreciative glance. He was the only person that he could think of who would bodyslam someone into the pavement one moment and then pay their utility bills the next. Nero was truly something else. “I’m never going to understand where you got the cash from to do that. I mean, don’t you have two kids to feed?”

Nero held up three fingers, shaking his head. “Last time I checked, it was three. And I said don’t worry about it, ok? I’ve got this.”

At that, Vergil gave up on figuring out which of the seemingly endless knobs on this arcane contraption actually turned it off and unplugged it from the wall, solving the simple issue in the most Vergil way possible. No, he couldn’t have just heard him correctly. “... Did you just… You have three children, Nero?”

Nero watched Vergil approach from across the room, having nearly forgotten that he was still in the common area due to his silence. For some undisclosed reason, he was the only person present who insisted upon toting his blade around the building as if he thought that something would attack him here. Perhaps he did think that, considering how much time he’d supposedly spent in the underworld from what Nero had heard. Nero took a moment to consider the question, debating the merits of letting Vergil know about his personal life. But then again, what harm could come from him knowing? “Yea, three boys. Kyrie brought them home from the orphanage a while back since they didn’t have anywhere else to go while the repairs were going on. When it was time to send them back, she couldn’t make herself let them go so we just decided to keep 'em’.” Nero drifted off for a moment, recalling the fond memory. He then returned his attention to Dante.” But yea. So, why doesn’t he know where the bathroom is? Like, you’ve basically lived here forever, right? I don’t get it.”

And awkward silence blanked the room at the twins both considered the ramifications of such an innocent question. Vergil allowed himself to lean against the desk, earning him a raised eyebrow from his younger twin. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed that Vergil was attempting to relax. But was he even physically capable of doing that? Dante wasn’t banking on it. 

“Because I’ve never been here before,” Vergil answered succinctly. It was the truth, but admittedly, he didn’t grasp the significance of the statement until after he’d spoken the words. In at least two decades of Dante calling this office home, Vergil had never come to visit. Admittedly, they had not been on good (or even amicable terms) until now, but it had never occurred to him, much like it hadn’t occurred to him to come and visit, that he hadn’t made an effort to spend any meaningful time here and try to work things out with his younger twin.

Nero glanced between them, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face. “How is that even- you know what? Nevermind. I’m not even gonna ask.” Nero shook his head before addressing Vergil again.”Why’d you wanna know anyway? What, did you think I was too young to have more than one kid or something?” Nero teased the subject casually. He didn’t honestly care what Vergil -or anyone else for that matter- thought about the subject. They were good children and he enjoyed having them around, despite the fact that they seemed to eat their weight in food on a daily basis.

Vergil seemed unfazed by the response he’d been given. “Yes. I did think that. At least, biologically.”

Dante laughed sarcastically at his brother’s response, drawing the puzzled gazes of both of his relatives. “Oh, your one to talk, Vergil. You did the same thing, and they are probably even closer together than his kids are!”  
If looks could kill, Dante’s soul would have literally flown out of his body and plunged straight into hell. Vergil stared at him with a look he could only describe as blind horror and rage as he tried to process the ramification of Dante’s statement in front of Nero. This was not the time to have this conversation. Nero looked at them both in obvious confusion, completely unsure as to how to process his uncle’s statement. “Dante, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Dante felt a profound sense of regret wash over him as he realized the can of worms that he had just opened. A quick glance at Vergil confirmed his initial suspicion that his twin had seemingly turned a few shades paler. The eldest Son of Sparda had hoped that the statement would go over his son’s head, but Nero wasn’t quite as clueless as he’d hoped. There was no avoiding this topic of conversation, then.

Vergil let out a long sigh and accepted his defeat, along with the inevitable ass-kicking he was certainly about to receive. Additionally, he accepted the fact that he deserved it as well. He had never related to a defendant on trial so much in his entire life as he did at this very moment. “... You have a sibling.”

Nero stared at him blankly, every gear in his brain slamming to a stop and his cognitive abilities fled him. The silence that fell over the room was physically painful. After a prolonged period of time enduring the mounting sense of discomfort, Vergil decided to stop dodging the inevitable fight that was about to unfold and elaborate on his previous statement. “Moreover... you have a brother. The two of you are already well-acquainted from what I understand.”

The Sons of Sparda watched Nero scour his mind, combing it for a possible candidate. And they could also see the precise moment that he hit the jackpot. Nero’s state of utter disbelief was as threatening as it was uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of, and as he exhaled a tentative breath, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly, seeming to understand before he even asked. “It’s fucking V, isn’t it?”

Vergil nodded once as if not moving would somehow keep the eruption of emotion threatening to escape Nero at bay. Nero took a deep breath and growled under breath, unsure of how to process what he had just learned. He didn’t need Vergil’s confirmation. In some small measure, he just knew something had been different about him from the moment they had first met in his bedroom in Fortuna three months ago. Vergil simply waited for his son’s response. He did not fear Nero, but he acknowledged the destructive power that he possessed and the fact that he may very well never speak to him again after learning the truth. But a part of him dared hope for a different outcome despite everything.

“I guess I should rephrase that, shouldn’t I,” Nero said, a certain uncanny darkness tinting his tone of voice,” I had a brother. At least until whatever the hell you did to him happened.” The calm fury in his voice made the statement carry so much additional weight that it was unreal. “So unless whatever you did to him you can undo, I guess I’ve been downgraded to only child status again. I can’t fucking believe you.”

Vergil dwelled on Nero’s statement in silence. He seemed to consider something for a long time before carefully speaking. “... I never intended for him to meet such a fate. In truth, his involvement in my affairs was never planned from the start and if I could undo what has been done…” Vergil stopped dead in his tracks, a metaphorical lightbulb coming on in his head. In that very instant, something had occurred to him. An idea that he could not yet elaborate on, but also one that might have potential nonetheless. Dante and Nero both looked at him questioningly, wondering what part of his mind had come undone at that moment.

Vergil adjusted his coat and his posture, no longer leaning against the edge of the desk. He nodded to himself once before speaking, as if to confirm something to himself. “... There may be something that could be done about what you suggested. But first, I need to find her. It has been some time now, and I do not know if she still resides where I last visited her.”

Dante sat up straight in his chair, now more invested in this conversation than he had been before his brother had dared suggest something so outlandish.”Her who?”

Nero seemed to share Dante’s sentiment, although in a less agreeable state. Vergil sighed. Of all the bridges he had burned over the years, he never thought this would be the one he would come to regret the most. “Magnolia”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Hopefully, I haven’t lost any of you, but as I mentioned before this is a cannon divergent au. A while back, I did a questionnaire, and over half of the participants said that this was an idea that they personally liked, so I can only hope that you will keep reading to see what happens next! I hope to do two more chapters next week, one on Wednesday and one on Friday, but at the very least the Friday release is always guaranteed for this fic. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you don’t like the direction, I totally understand. Just please, don’t send me hate mail. Thanks everyone!


	4. Chapter Three: Arcana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I’d just like to take a moment to thank everyone for the massive outpour of support I’ve received for the story so far. From reblogs on Tumblr, to comments, to the number of returning readers, I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you all! I’d love to hear from even more of you in the future. Your kind comments always brighten my day! And sorry for how late in the day this chapter is! I overslept after staying up all night to write it!

Chapter Three: Arcana

There was a certain supernatural aura that seemed to linger like a heavy fog on this seemingly peaceful street.

The crisp white light from the vintage street lights seemed to cascade off of the damp cobblestone road in rows, rippling gently in the reflection of every body of water it crossed. Nearly every window held a shadow, the vibrant light of the moon reflecting off of them like mirrors every time the celestial body dared show itself from behind the veil of passing storm clouds. Every car that hugged the curbside seemed to have been there for only a short while, nothing lingering in this place for very long. Young birch trees cradled within urban tree guards obscured rows of attached row houses, shops, pubs on either side of the road, some of the small businesses seemingly containing residences within or above them. A few were guarded by pull-down security gates in an effort to keep their contents secure overnight. The only significant source of sound came from a small bar and grill towards the far end of the block, though that was not where the duo was headed. At least not at the moment.

As they passed by, Nero could faintly make out letters on the signs of several buildings. A florist shop. Another small grocery store. A bakery. Nothing especially innocuous. He scanned the lonely street, actively searching for the location that had brought them here in the first place. Considering the extenuating circumstances that had brought them here, Nero was almost desperate to hope for a positive outcome. But, taking into account the fact that the last time this place had been confirmed to be inhabited by the person they were looking for had been around the time he had been born, he was forced to be realistic. Then again, Dante hadn’t moved in that amount of time, so perhaps they had reason to suspect the same in this case.

Seemingly from nowhere, a cold breeze blew from some unseen place, causing Nero to shiver. It was uncharacteristically cold for the beginning of August, almost supernaturally so. Just as the youth was going to say something about it, Vergil came to a sudden stop in front of him. Nero joined him, the fingers of his right hand ghosting Blue Rose’s grip. He was more than ready for another fight. Vergil held up his hand, gesturing for him to stop. He tilted his head nonchalantly, gesturing in the direction of one of the nearby buildings. From what Nero could make out, they were standing in front of a shop with a multi-story townhouse nestled snugly above it. The narrow Edwardian building seemed to be historic, faint grey bricks edged with white pillars covering the facade. The upper floors seemed to be a sort of pale yellow plaster, but the windows, which there were several varieties of, seemed to share the same white detailing. All in all, it was a seemingly well kept but worn old rowhouse, not unlike the rest of the street. But Nero would be lying if he didn’t admit that something was just very… off about the place.

“So is this the place we're looking for?” Nero inquired, his eyes never leaving the building.

Vergil nodded quietly, seemingly lost in thought. This was one place he didn’t think he’d ever find himself standing outside of again. “Yes. It seems that she is still here.”

-~-

(About an hour earlier…)

“Ok, so let me get this straight,” Dante shook his head as he reclined in his desk chair, unable to do anything but laugh to himself. This entire situation was unbelievable. “The only person you think can help you out with this idea you won’t tell us about lives on the other side of town and you haven’t seen her in, what, two decades at least? And even if you do find her, you're not sure how she’s going to react to seeing you after all this time?”

Vergil nodded, not entirely sure what else of worth to contribute to his twin brother’s summation. His situation with Magnolia had always been complicated, but the last thing he needed right now was to have to explain his private life to anyone, especially his already justifiably pissed off son. Vergil folded his arms, thinking deeply. “I am not opposed to making a housecall, although she may take offense to the time. It is rather late and she does not live close by.”

Nero sighed, still at a loss for words. This conversation had been going on for the better part of three hours, and sundown was rapidly approaching. They had gone around in circles with the eldest Son of Sparda forever, inquiring as to what he had conjured up inside of his mind and how this woman that neither of them had ever heard of fit into it. And as expected, he had provided them with no explanation or reassurance. Nero could only assume it was because whatever he had planned was so outlandish or improbable that he didn’t wish to start another argument with them about it, but Nero had already reached his limit for the day and he was going to get some answers one way or another. After all, he was far from the type to just sit idly by and twiddle his thumbs waiting for others to fix everything, especially when it came to those he cared about. And despite their brief time together, Nero did include V on that list. Despite not being the most approachable person he’d ever encountered, he possessed a certain charm that had grown on him over time, and, by the end of their journey, he had come to consider him a friend. Or pleasant company, at the very least. He occasionally found himself sparing a mournful glance in the direction of V’s beloved book back home, a mixture of guilt and sadness washing over him that always seemed to linger the longer he spent time near it. He wished that there had been more that he could have done. Watching anyone suffer always took a toll on him, and the Redgrave Disaster had been no different.

“Look,” Nero sighed as he stretched his arms over his head. He was completely done with talking for one day,” Let’s just go. Nico can give us a lift. It won’t take that long. And then you can find out if she can help out and we can go from there.”

Vergil was seemingly natural to the suggestion but sighed in discontent nonetheless. “I am more than capable of handling this on my own. I shall return shortly.”

The eldest Son of Sparda unfolded his arms and took a step towards the door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Nero. The young man had migrated towards the back wall and retrieved his sword, clearly intent on following him. Vergil was slightly puzzled. Nero had clearly heard him. “Last time I checked, we spoke the same dialect, Nero.”

Nero placed the blade into the holster on his back and untangled his coat before adjusting his posture, clearly intending to follow Vergil regardless of his protests. Much like Vergil wasn’t receptive to their requests for him to explain his plan, Nero wasn’t receptive to the idea of being left behind by Vergil. He needed answers, and maybe this Magnolia woman could provide them. “And last time I checked, you were full of shit. You need a ride, and I have one. And we both need questions answered. So I’m coming with you, like it or not; I don’t really care either way right now. Not in the mood.”

For a moment, Vergil had to remind himself that he did not need another of his children’s death on his hands. And considering his past behavior to the younger descendent of Sparda, he didn’t have much ground to stand on with him. But regardless of that, he still found himself irritated with Nero’s unwavering fowl attitude towards him! “Do not test me, child. I am in no mood. You will stay here with Dante-”

“Nope. Not happening,” Nero interjected, seemingly unaffected by his father’s darker inflection,” I’m going with you. You’ve spent enough time avoiding me, and I’m getting the answers I need, and I couldn’t care less if you like it or not. I’m not some little kid you can just tell to sit in the car while you go take care of shit!”

Vergil stared at his son long and hard before closing his eyes and turning away from him and heading towards the door. The older man didn’t give him permission to come with him, but he had seemingly dropped his protests in favor of giving him the cold shoulder. Nero followed after him, admittedly somewhat pleased that he hadn’t allowed Vergil’s insistence to change his stance on the matter.

“We’ll be back later,” Nero shouted to Dante over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. Dante scoffed in amusement, waving him on. The Youngest Son of Sparda had possibly just found the one person who was better at getting under his identical twin’s skin than he was.

Once outside, the two of them headed towards the van. After their fight, Nico had relocated the vehicle to a more fitting spot next to the front steps. The remnants of their fight from earlier that day still remained, dislocated bricks and scorch marks covering every surface in a considerable perimeter around the front entrance. It was amazing that the building itself had been unharmed during the battle. Nero opened the sliding door and stepped into the vehicle, startling Nico as he did so. The mechanic was leaned over her workstation, welding something together. “Damn it, could you knock next time or somethin’? I’m tryin’ to get work done here!”

Nero laughed at the comment, but only for a moment. He then leaned over the table himself, observing her work for himself. “I was wondering why you never came inside.”

Nico turned off the power tool and sat it down before lifting her protective visor. Just as she did so, Vergil closed the door and stepped around the corner, his eyes wandering around the space he stood in. Nico gave him an inquisitive look before coming around the table and approaching the eldest Son of Sparda to get a better look. “So your Vergil, right? Nero told me ‘bout you earlier.”

Vergil internally balked at her accent, not at all expecting it. He then nodded, deciding to not dwell on it. He didn’t really care what she sounded like, one way or another.. Nero walked past them both and flopped down into the passenger’s seat, kicking his feet up. “This is Nico. She’s the one that made the Devil Breakers for me after that shit you pulled in my garage. You can thank her for all that shit I hit you in the face with back then.”

Vergil nodded sarcastically at his son, not at all amused but admittedly intrigued as to how the young human woman before him had managed to do something so complicated on such short notice. “You have experience with prosthetics, then?” He asked, genuinely intrigued but not showing it.

Nico shook her head and pointed towards the plack on the far wall. “Naw, my grandmother was a woman named Nell Goldstine. Folkes called her the 45 Caliber Virtuoso! That, and my useless daddy studied demons.Tinkerin’ just runs in my blood, and the Devil Breakers are the start to a whole bunch of stuff I’ve been cookn’ up lately! Those demon assholes won’t know what hit em’.”

The dim light in the van was Vergil’s only saving grace as he visibly paled at the mention of Nell’s name. Was this some kind of Freudian waking nightmare? Was this some sort of ironic punishment? Why and how on earth did Nero end up friends with a Goldstine? Those were memories that Vergil had forced deep down into his subconscious a long time ago, and here was a living reminder of yet another regrettable crime he had committed in his youth.

Nico had joined Nero at the front of the van by this point and she was in the process of starting up the van, the both of them waiting for his directions. “So, where we headed?”

Vergil composed himself and let out a long sigh, thoroughly done with his day. “Bristol Street. Head towards Enamel City and to the center of the market district.”

Nico shrugged and put the car into reverse, violently acquainting Vergil’s face with the couch as he was thrown off of his feet and towards the floor. Nero snickered and shook his head. “Oh, yea. By the way, Nico can’t drive for shit! Forgot to mention that.”

Vergil glared up at his son as he collected himself. He had been taken off guard far too many times for his liking today. “Yes, Nero. I may have noticed that.”

-~-

Nero was confident that the next ice age would arrive before Vergil finally headed towards the stairs. He had stood there, looking at the stairs that led up to the front door of the row home for what had to be a solid five to ten minutes before finally heading towards the house. Even for the eldest Son of Sparda, he was uncomfortably quiet. Nero didn’t bother to ask why. He knew Vergil wouldn’t tell him if he did. But he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more going on at this place that he initially thought. When they had first arrived, Nero had asked Nico to get in contact with Dante and keep him updated on the situation. Although there was probably nothing to be worried about, Nero didn’t fully trust anyone that he didn’t know. And he especially didn’t trust anyone that Vergil might be friends with.

The youngest descendant of Sparda’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Vergil’s discontent sighs. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell that he didn’t want to be here doing this. Nero glanced over at him and then the door, in slight disbelief that he had still hadn’t made an effort to knock on the door. “I fucking swear to god, If you don’t, I will.”

Vergil shot him a quick glare before reaching up to knock on the door. He paused before his hand made contact with the door, instead opting to use the knocker on the door instead. He delivered three quick knocks and then stopped, waiting for a response. After a long moment of silence, a friendly female voice broke the silence. “I apologize, but the Apothecary is closed for the night! You’re going to have to come back in the morning. But if it’s an emergency, do go to the hospital! I wouldn’t want you to expire on my steps, now would I?”

Nero snickered to himself. The woman had a slight British accent, and a very proper one at that. He had heard someone speak this way before, but he was still taken slightly by surprise. Vergil knocked again, this time with his hand. Light footsteps could be heard approaching the door, stopping just a few feet shy of it. “Oh, dear… I’m sorry but I must insist that you go elsewhere. We’re closed now. Try again in the morning?” She sounded almost concerned as she spoke, her voice caring a gentle and almost caring tone to it.

Nero was about to speak up when Vergil shook his head to himself and sighed, a mixture of discomfort and something else that Nero couldn’t quite place in his voice. “Magnolia… I have returned.”

In one rapid, jarring movement, the door swung open with enough force to pull it free from its hinges and slammed against the outer wall, bouncing back a few inches. Vergil caught it before it could swing closed again (or hit him in the face) and stared at her, seemingly just as startled as his young son was. A woman who didn’t look significantly older than Nero stood in front of them, her soft grey eyes staring at Vergil in a cold calculating manner. She was slightly wide-eyed, a fact that was slightly undercut by the fact that her long, frizzy brownish auburn hair obscured half of her face. It fell in spiral curls that ended at the cusp of her shoulder blade, a few grey streaks traveling through it on one side. She and Kyrie were about equal in proportion, although this woman was slightly shorter. She wore a grey and blue long hanging sleeved dress with thin leather buckles around the waist and a pair of half knee-length, soft grey leather boots adorning her legs.

The woman closed her eyes and Nero suddenly felt the sensation that something wasn’t right. When she opened them again, they were a bright, almost neon sign shade of red, her once diminutive stature now commanding and fierce. She raised a hand and held it out in front of herself as if to do something with it and Nero saw Vergil’s posture change. They were both ready to strike.

“So, um… are you Magnolia?” Nero asked almost cautiously. He had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want anything to do with what she had planned.

In the blink of an eye, Nero felt the air leave his lungs as his body left the ground and he veered rapidly towards a hard impact. He landed back first against the pavement, coughing and gasping for breath as he clutched his now throbbing chest and stomach. His ears were ringing and his vision was clear but spinning, leaving him a disoriented mess on the ground. As his head stopped spinning, he glanced around himself in a panic to regain his bearings, only to realize that he was laying at the bottom of the stairs. He had been knocked down?

As he moved to sit up, a wave of nausea hit him and a hand touched him, holding him back. He blinked rapidly and made eye contact with Vergil, who was shockingly, standing between him and the woman who had struck him down. Vergil had Yamato drawn and was addressing the woman before them in a tone that was unmistakably tinted with rage. “Magnolia, your fight is with me. You will leave my son out of this.”

Magnolia stared at Vergil angrily from the top of the stairs before taking a long, slow breath and exhaling, her anger seemingly leaving her. She shook her head before taking a step forward. “Is the child hurt?”

Nero shook his head, sitting up to try and regain his senses quicker. “Well, besides the fact that you just threw me down the stairs, I’m just fine.” 

She seemed relieved to hear Nero speak. “Forgive me, young one. That was meant for Vergil,” She said as she turned towards the Darkslayer,” You have some nerve coming back here! It’s been two decades at least! What could you possibly want from me after all this time?!”

Vergil sheathed Yamato but stood his ground, remaining between Magnolia and Nero, who was just now clambering to his feet. He looked down at the ground as if considering his next words carefully before looking back up to meet Her gaze. He spoke firmly and clearly. 

“I need you to locate a lost soul for me. I’m no Alchemist, Magnolia. But you most certainly are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter! The next chapter will be out on Friday, May 8th, so tune in to find out how the hell they are going to figure this one out! Sorry for any mistakes. I ran this through two grammar and spelling checkers, but I’m running on fumes and my mind isn’t in this anymore. I stayed up all night to finish this the night of my birthday, so I’m just very tired. The next chapter is going to be very fun, and I look forward to having you guys read it! Also, are the chapters too long, too short, or fine how they are? Let me know in the comments! Have a wonderful day and stay safe!


	5. Chapter Four: Deviation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I continue to be humbled by your support and kindness! The comments I continue to receive and the warm reception that the community has given me make me feel warm and fuzzy inside! A special shout out to SkylarMorgan1899 on Tumblr for keeping me going through a long night of writing by giving me someone who I know is always happy when I make something new. You're the best and this chapter is for you! Looking at you too, Mallovarwen! You guys rock!

Chapter Four: Deviation

The silence that lingered in the space between them held a physical presence. In a way, it was like hitting a reset switch on their entire interaction, stopping everyone dead in their tracks. Vergil and Magnolia raged a silent but passive battle, some conflict unknown to Nero holding their collective silent attention. As the young devil hunter straightened out his coat and realigned his stance, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on here. What had gone on here in the past to lead to this moment? Vergil shifted his sheathed blade into his off-hand and craned his head slightly to the left, beckoning the answer to an unasked question. Magnolia sighed as her hands flopped uselessly to her sides and Nero could tell at that moment that the woman standing before them meant no further harm.

“... Soul Scrying is a bit closer to Necromancy than I tend to lean and you know that.” She said tiredly, her voice almost a whisper. Or perhaps she was actually whispering. Nero did possess better hearing than the average person, after all. It was entirely possible.

Vergil took a step forward, seemingly more relaxed now that she wasn’t doing whatever she had done mere moments ago. Things seemed to escalate wildly and unpredictably into left field with the eldest Son of Sparda in play, and he was becoming more and more aware of this. The woman before him showed her age at that moment, a lifetime of unsaid worries displaying in her body language. She and Vergil both shared a predilection for aging extraordinarily well, but in the simple act of shifting her center of balance and slumping more to one side against the railing of her front steps, she aged a decade in an instant. Vergil approached the bottom of the steps, resting his hand on the first segment of the wrought iron railing. He then looked up at her, the state of calm calculation that was often so closely associated with him fully returning for the first time since it had abandoned him in the underworld with Dante earlier that day.

“If I wanted a Necromancer, I wouldn’t have come here,” Vergil stated in a very matter of fact way, belying deeper emotions,” Although I do not know the extent of my request at this moment, I can’t imagine that it extends past your limitations.”

“And those limitations are there for a reason,” She replied as she folded her arms across her chest. Nero caught a glimpse of what seemed to be tattooed skin ascending her arms as her baggy sleeves exposed a small portion of lower arms. “It isn’t often that someone goes looking into the beyond without plans to take something from it.”

Nero heard her words, but he was too focused on the markings on her arms. There seemed to be symbols of some sort mixed in between what seemed to be a crescent moon and an eye on each arm respectively. Although distinctly different from V’s tattoos, Nero couldn’t help but wonder if they functioned in a similar way. Then again, he had no idea how the mysterious devil summoner’s powers worked for that matter, so he couldn’t exactly compare them beyond noting the obvious fact that they were both attached to the bodies of beings with questionable abilities. And what was this talk of Necromancy and Alchemy? Wasn’t that what that idiot Agnus had been up to back at the Order of the Sword?

“I am more than aware of the fact that someone cannot bring something back that is fully claimed by powers outside of our control,” Vergil stated almost solemnly,” But I am also aware that your ancestors have had dealings with souls that span every possible segment of reality. And that they kept meticulous records.”

Magnolia scoffed at the statement, seemingly somewhat amused. “Yes, well they took a much more liberal approach to the Trinity of Realities than I do. And that time has long since passed. But on that note,” she glanced from side to side as if to check for onlookers,” … This is a conversation better had inside over a cup of tea, don’t you think?”

Vergil paused for a moment before giving a single nod and starting up the steps. Nero started after him, realizing after a moment that the older man wasn’t going to politely ask him to come along. He seemed to expect him to be proactive and independent, even when he hadn’t the slightest clue what on earth he was getting himself into. But regardless, he hurriedly followed them through the threshold of the front door, catching up just as Vergil stepped through the doorway. This seemed to be a conversation they needed to have in private. Apparently, the entire neighborhood knowing what they were here for wasn’t something anyone was comfortable factoring into their plans. Understandable.

The just shy of middle-aged women showed them to their seats in the living room and then stepped out of the room into the kitchen. The narrow profile of the townhome made for a living space that wasn’t terribly over-furnished as it would make things claustrophobic, so the room consisted of two contemporary, almost mid-century modern chairs that were positioned with their backs to an open bay window. They faced the matching love seat across the room from them, a circular coffee table covered in pleasant-smelling herbs and candles spanning the space between them while a small arm table sat between the chairs covered in a few well-worn books. An open birdcage sat near the corner of the room between a large potted fern and the fireplace that didn’t seem to work since it was bricked up and a piece of framed minimalist art was leaned against it. All in all, it was a comfortable space.

Or at least it would have been if it didn’t force Nero and Vergil to sit so near to one another.

The second their bodies had made contact with the plush upholstering of the couch, both of them had migrated as far in either direction as they possibly could. Vergil opted to watch the hallway between the kitchen and the front door while Nero idly turned a sizable leaf over in his hand, taking care not to break it off of its host plant. Thankfully, Magnolia returned a moment later with a tray in hand. She sat it down amidst the plants and candles on the coffee table, removing the lid of the silver tray to display several croissants, various preserves, butter, teacups, and sugar cubes along with a small metal container that presumably contained some sort of dairy product. Everything seemed fresh, as though it had been made from scratch just moments ago. The mixture of smells was intoxicating.

“You're both lucky,” She let slip a small, genuine smile,” You caught me just after I made these. I like to treat myself in the evenings. Help yourself.”

Nero didn’t hesitate to go for one of the croissants. He wasn’t a tea person himself, but he imagined Kyrie would love this if she’d be present. Maybe he could bring her by sometime… “Thank you.”

Magnolia laughed as Nero completely skipped any toppings and helped himself to the buttery roll, nearly eating it in one large bite. “So, if I bake you more of these, can we call the incident with the stairs even, then?” She asked playfully. Nero didn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. He was keen on any agreement that got him quicker access to these delectable butter coated rolls. What the hell did she put in these? Liquid addiction?

Vergil watched their interaction absent-mindedly from over the cup of tea that he was in the process of fixing. Part of him couldn’t help but be slightly entertained by the younger man’s behavior when placated with treats. He was certainly more polite towards Magnolia than he was towards him, although that could have just been because he now knew she was powerful enough to throw him down a flight of stairs without even touching him. Still, their interaction affected him in a way that he could not place. Or maybe he had repressed it. Perhaps it reminded him of some long lost memory from a lifetime ago.

“Your bloodline traces itself back to Vigrid, does it not?” Vergil inquired, seemingly trying to remember something that he had forgotten.

Magnolia nodded. “Better than Noatun. Neither place is very ideal, but I’d like to stay as far from Fimbulventr as possible. Thankfully, I haven’t had reason to go to either place in my lifetime,” She turned to Nero, taking a sip of her tea,” Where are you from, then? I don’t get the impression you were reared in Capulet. Count yourself lucky!”

Nero shrugged nonchalantly and took a brief respite from suffocating himself with pastries to answer.” Fortuna Island.”

Both Vergil and Magnolia stared at him in blank, abject horror as if he had just cursed them and everything they stood for. Magnolia shot Vergil a glare and smacked him with her ceramic teaspoon, shaking her head in disappointment. “Don’t look so surprised! You’re supposed to be his father, after all! What on earth possessed you to raise him on that godforsaken island?!”

Vergil sat the now empty teacup down and sighed uncomfortably. “... I didn’t… If I had known Nero was there in the first place, I would have never-”

Seemingly mid-sentence, Vergil suddenly remembered that he was sitting next to Nero and he stopped, turning to make eye contact with him. There was something more to the look in his eyes that the younger man couldn’t quite place, but it held his attention regardless. “... I would have never left him there.”

Nero felt himself swallow hard in discomfort. Now he could place the look in his father’s eyes. It was regret. Sorrow even. And it wasn’t an emotion that he would have ever associated with his Vergil until this exact moment. Until the moment he had seen him express it, regardless of how subtle. Nero wound his fingers together and looked back down towards the tray of food on the table. He suddenly felt an intense, all-consuming desire to look anywhere but at the eldest Son of Sparda.

Vergil looked at him quietly for a moment before releasing a silent breath and turning back to Magnolia. The look of pain-filled comprehension in her face spoke volumes. “... What are you hoping to achieve by asking me to look into this for you, Vergil? I can’t change the past. You know that.”

He leaned across the space between them, illustrating his point a bit further by getting closer to her. “I remember reading something about the properties of some arcane timepiece used by your ancestors to offset time. It delayed the process of dying, even after death. You should know better than most that death does not make a soul irretrievable. It just makes it slightly more… difficult.”

Magnolia sat back as if to process Vergil’s words. She nodded to herself before taking a final sip of her tea and setting the cup back on her tray. Nero remained quiet, listening in as he idly consumed yet another croissant. He still hadn’t looked in their direction, however. She sighed and quietly laughed to herself at the preposterous situation she had somehow gotten herself into. “Admittedly, a soul hasn’t been fully processed until it has been claimed by an afterlife. Purgatorio isn’t the best at its job on a good day, and if this is one of your relatives, I can only guess they might... hit a hiccup processing the paperwork, so to speak. I doubt they’d notice if someone slipped out of the waiting room.”

Nero scoffed at the comment, unsure of why the mental image of being stuck in a waiting room in between heaven and hell was so amusing to him. Maybe it was how clinical and utterly boring it seemed. After all, he highly doubted that they had any magazines down there to read or anything. Or up there? Where the hell was Purgatorio in relation to the human realm? Could they go there? What even was it? “So you’re saying that we can, what, just call the underworld or whatever and just ask for someone’s soul? Is that how you got out of there?”

Vergil shook his head, not at all willing or ready to regale his son -or anyone for that matter- with exciting tales from that horrific chapter of his life. Magnolia stood up and gestured for the pair to follow her upstairs. They did as she requested, following her up two stories of dark stairs into the attic. On one of the last steps, Nero tripped, nearly falling backward down the stairs. Before he could catch himself, an unseen force braced him, pushing him forward where Vergil grabbed him by the front of his coat. The older devil slayer shook his head slightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were magnetically attracted to stairs, child.”

Nero pulled free, trying, and more or less succeeding in suppressing the chuckle he almost let loose. “You know what- it’s not funny!”

Vergil had turned away from him and the younger man could almost swear he had just seen Vergil snicker. No, that couldn’t be correct. Vergil didn’t have a sense of humor… did he? It was an almost unfathomably creepy prospect to the younger devil hunter, so he pushed it aside and decided to return to the matter at hand. He followed them up into the attic as a light flickered on and he was greeted to the sight of what seemed to be a workshop of some sort. Several windows that were inlaid into the back of the roof let in cool air and plants, bottles, beakers, Bunson burners, and books littered the space in neat piles. The plants were in small pots, some suspended on racks, and some hanging from the ceiling. Nero wandered aimlessly through the surprisingly spacious room, taking in the sights. “So um, did you catch me on the stairs just now? And what do ya do for a living, again?”

The middle-aged woman was in the process of climbing down from a step ladder with a large book in tow. She pushed aside several pieces of lab equipment and brushed the table clean before sitting the book down and opening it. She flipped through several pages, speed reading as she searched. “I’m an Apothecary. I sell herbal remedies for things like the common cold and stomach pain, mostly in the form of teas and water-soluble powders. And I see you noticed that I did that. I’m surprised. You couldn’t have seen me do that.”

Nero approached to get a better look at the book. “Yea, well I could feel it. Reminded me of when I fell down the stairs before, except that was a push instead of a pull.”

Magnolia nodded, impressed. “You catch on quicker than your father. Maybe you won’t make a mess of things quite as often, either. Shouldn’t be too hard, all things considered.”

Vergil shot her an unappreciative glance from across the room. He was examining another bookcase on the far side of the room, but unlike her, he didn’t require the step ladder to do so. Magnolia gestured towards the book in his hand. “I think it’s that one. That’s the one I’m searching for, right there. Bring it. Quickly!”

In the blink of an eye, Vergil had placed the book down on top of the already open book on the table. Magnolia barely paid his rapid movement any mind, but the same could not be said for Nero. Although he didn’t say anything, he still found himself wondering why Vergil had felt the need to use his teleporting ability to do that. Showoff.

After flipping through several pages of the book, she pointed towards one of the symbols. “This one. This is the one I need. I’ll ask that you stand back a ways, please. Thank you.”

With that, she proceeded to pick a few leaves off of several of the plants in the room. She pointed towards a few of the plants nearest to Vergil and Nero, instructing them as to how many leaves she needed and how best to handle the plants so as to not harm them or themselves. After gathering everything, she placed everything into a bowl and returned to the book, preparing the next step. She seemed to read several paragraphs before stopping for a moment to pour a clear liquid into the bowl and stir. “Terribly sorry, but which one of you is closest to the person we’re looking for? Biologically, that is.”

Nero and Vergil drew a blank, glancing at one another before turning back towards her. Nero shrugged dubiously. “Actually, I kinda think we’re about even there.”

A look of confusion crossed Magnolia’s face before she stopped and turned to stare at Vergil, disbelief clouding her large grey eyes. She then turned to Nero, noting the discomfort they seemed to both share. The brown-haired woman then shook her head, returning to the bowl. “... Vergil, what… what happened to this child?” Her voice was a pained whisper, her eyes betraying the worry she seemed to be trying to conceal.

Vergil shifted uncomfortably in place before sighing. Nero looked up at him tentatively. He needed this clarified as well. It had never been made clear how V had met his untimely end. Vergil seemed almost distant when he spoke as if the matter weighed heavily on him and he did not wish to speak of it. Now that the youngest descendent of Sparda thought about it, that was probably the case. Although he didn’t understand anything about their relationship (or if they even had one) he knew enough to be able to tell that this was a sensitive topic that Vergil seemed to want to avoid at all costs.

“... I split my soul into two parts and stored one half within him. During the remerging process he…” Vergil trailed off for a moment before letting out a displeased sigh,”... He turned to dust and was dissolved in the blast... unfortunately, he was completely destroyed.”

At that comment, Nero turned away from Vergil and folded his arms, peering out of the window. Somehow he had known that his father had been the source of what had been killing V. He could just feel it. After all, aside from being kinda frail, he had been fine for most of the time that he’d known him until suddenly, everything went downhill. But now he had conclusive proof and he wasn’t sure what he felt about it. It was too soon to come to conclusions, but he knew he wasn’t happy about it. But what had Vergil ever done that he was okay with? Helping destroy the Qliphoth? He had caused that, but at least he had fixed that in the end. His feelings towards the older man were complicated, to say the least, and at this moment in time, he didn’t really know how to feel about anything.

Magnolia stopped stirring and sat the bowl down in front of them both, gesturing towards the now dark green slurry. “Better to be safe than sorry then. I need a bit of blood from you both. I have to be sure. There is a knife behind you if you need it. I don’t know how clean it is since I use it for the plants, but still. It’s something.”

Before Nero could turn to look at the blade, Vergil had unsheathed Yamato and removed the glove on his off-hand. He then used the razor-sharp blade to slice open his palm, dripping a steady stream of blood into the mixture. Magnolia and Nero both stared at him, slightly concerned that he had gone mad. “I said a few drops, Vergil. Did I not say a few drops? I was very clear.”

She looked to Nero for a second opinion and he nodded, still slightly taken aback by his father’s lack of hesitation. Vergil gestured towards Nero. “Hold out your hand.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “Look, you’ve already cut my ar-”

Vergil gave him a look that could cut stone, instantly silencing him. Nero smirked to himself. Good to know that he didn’t want her to know that. He would save that as a bargaining chip for later. He then removed the glove on his right hand and held up his arm. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been cut by Yamato’s blade. “Look, just don’t hack my hand off or I’m going to beat your crazy old ass to-”

Before he could finish his threat, Vergil was finished. A dull throb traveled up his arm as blood trickled down from his hand and onto his fingertips. Nero positioned his hand over the bowl and gave his palm a tight squeeze before he began to heal. Within seconds the wound had reclosed and magnolia had resumed stirring. She set the bowl down and reached over, yanking a hair from each of them in tandem. Nero rubbed his head in discomfort while Vergil shot her a look of absolute disdain. Magnolia snickered to herself. “Oh, come of it then! I know how touchy you are about your hair, so I wasn’t going to ask now, was I?!”

Vergil folded his arms, clearly done with her shit. “Is it ready or not, Magnolia?”

Magnolia added the hairs and gave the bowl a quick stir. Within seconds, the mixture glowed a vibrant red before turning black. Then it turned bright purple, a faint pulse flowing through the liquid. The woman poured the mixture into an hourglass-shaped vessel and turned it upside down. The once thick liquid seemed to come to a stand still, dripping slowly into the bottom compartment of the glass hourglass. With that, she stood back and she nodded, a pleased look on her face. Nero looked between her, Vergil, and the glass, his interest peaked.

“Good, we’ve done it!” She exclaimed almost gleefully. The two men looked at her blankly. More explanation was in order.

“How does it work,” Nero asked passively, reaching towards the glass container. Magnolia smacked his hand to reprimand him, causing him to curse under his breath and retract his hand. No touching. Duly noted.

“Magnolia...” Vergil was clearly running out of patience Either that, or the suspense was getting to him.

“How do I put this in a way that you lot will understand,” She said as she glanced between them and the glass. She snapped her fingers, a metaphorical lightbulb coming on in her head,” This hourglass works as a sort anchor. I was able to verify the integrity of the soul we were searching for. We have until this hourglass runs out to finish preparations. If we’re not ready by then, that’s it. I’d give us 72 hours, tops.”

Vergil nodded, seemingly absorbing the urgency of the task ahead of them. “What do you require then?”

She gestured towards the book, Vergil seemed to be able to read the pages, but they were written in a strange symbolic script that Nero couldn’t decipher. Magnolia flipped the page and pointed to one of the diagrams. “I’m going to need quite a bit more blood, a few more hairs from you for starters,” She gestured towards Vergil and he glared in distaste,” And I need an item close to the person who’s soul you are trying to invoke. That part is essential. This will not work without it. I cannot stress that fact enough. I trust you have something?”

Vergil shook his head and Magnolia groaned. Nero searched the inner compartments of his mind palace, trying to think of something. And then it hit him like a brick wall. “... I still have V’s book, Vergil.”

For one single solitary second, Vergil actually looked pleased. It was a fleeting thing that you’d miss if you blinked, but Nero caught it nonetheless. He turned to his son and nodded, internally glad that this was not something he needed to go mad trying to figure out. “Excellent. Where is it, then?”

Nero shifted uncomfortably. See, that was the catch, wasn’t it? “It’s at my place...In Fortuna.”

The eldest Son of Sparda Nodded, considering Nero’s statement. “It doesn’t take that long by car. The ferry ride is the issue.” Nero stated simply.

Vergil looked at Nero as though he had just told a joke. He tilted his head to the side and leaned in to look at his son closer. At that moment, he really took in their family resemblance. It was quite stark, wasn’t it? “We don’t need a ferry, child. Have you forgotten that we have wings?”

Nero smirked in remembrance. How had he forgotten that? He didn’t even need to be triggered to use his! Magnolia stepped forward and gestured towards the hourglass. “Well, however, you're getting there, be back here within 48 hours. I need that long to prepare everything. Hurry along, now. Go!”

Vergil begrudgingly nodded and headed towards the stairs with Nero in tow. They made their way down the stairs and out of the front door, taking the stairs two at a time. As they hurried along the dark street, the van came flying down the street, nearly crushing them both. Vergil briefly considered stabbing Nico but decided against it. She hadn’t done anything especially egregious to him quite yet. But she was indeed pushing it.

As the pare boarded the van, Nico turned to them looking for an update. “I was starting to think that she’d killed you both in there! What the hell took so long?!”

Nero flopped down in the passenger seat as Vergil headed towards the back of the van. After the ride here had nearly cost him his life, he wasn’t keen to ride in the front again. “Nico, I’m gonna have to explain all this another time. Right now, we’ve got to head back to the office and get Dante. He’s going to lose his shit when we tell him what we just did. But we gotta hurry.”

She nodded and floored the gas, sending the vehicle rocketing forward towards the intersection. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

The van shot up the street at top speed, headed in the direction of Dante’s place. There was absolutely no time to lose. They couldn’t screw this up. There was too much at stake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this everyone! Again, I stayed up all night, so I hope I didn’t spell anything too wrong. If you see anything feel free to let me know. The next chapter comes out on Wednesday, May 13th, so stay posted! Things are about to get CRAZY!


	6. Chapter Five: Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Once again, Mallovarwen and Skylarmorgan1899 are my emotional support reviewers, and reading your comments always puts a smile on my face. Thanks a bunch! I’m always happy to read everyone’s comments and feedback, so feel free to send them my way. I don’t care if it’s just a smiley face emoji. Now back to the story!

Chapter Five: Adrift

The overhead fan that hung from the double-height ceiling spun lazily as it wafted barely chilled air throughout the front office. A nearly finished box of pizza sat next to a pile of now negligible utility bills and empty drink bottles on the desk. Despite the fact that the music was still booming loudly throughout the space, Dante had slumped onto the front desk, his arms hanging over the far side facing the front door. The Youngest Son of Sparda had dozed off shortly after his troublemaking older brother and nephew had vacated the premises. It hadn’t been until they left that he realized how much he needed a good nap.

At seemingly the precise moment that Dante entered deep sleep, the front double doors slammed open and knocked against their respective sides of the wall. Dante jolted slightly at the sound but didn’t make an effort to raise his head and see who had just come into the building. He already knew. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Not by a longshot.

“So you both made it back, hu,” Dante inquired, the desk muffling his speech as he laid face down on it,” I was starting to think that Nico had finally crashed the van and killed you ya.”

Standing in the doorway was none other than Nero and Vergil, the two of them looming over Dante from across the room like gargoyles. Nero crossed the room and leaned over the desk, trying to rouse Dante from his restful state. The older man didn’t exactly feel like snapping out of his groggy delirium when Nero probed him, however.

Nero stood back and shook his head. The gravity of the time constraints they were under made him feel uneasy, to say the least. “Come on, get your ass up. We need to get going!”

Dante rolled his head to the side to make blurry eye contact with the younger descendant of Sparda. What was he going on about now? He then glanced over at the clock in another part of the room, exhaling in discontent. “And where the hell are we supposed to be going at almost ten at night?” Dante asked in a mixture of distaste and disinterest. He had been taking a perfectly good nap and now it was ruined.

From his place standing against the far wall of the shop next to the now-closed doors with his arms folded across his chest, Vergil chimed in. “Apparently, to Fortuna. I would have never seen myself going back there, but here we are.”

Dante sat up at his brother’s statement, now more curious and perplexed than irritated at them both. “And why would we go there?”

By this point, Nero was pacing aimlessly in front of Dante’s desk. He was not accustomed to being this out of his depth in a situation, and the time pressure only made things worse. At least when his arm had been cut off, there were more definite variables in the situation. Like the guarantee of pain, suffering, and the risk of bleeding to death. But using some sort of arcane anchor to pull a soul from Purgatorio, or limbo, or hell, or whatever this place was called and risking basically everything? Everything about this situation was supremely stress-inducing. He barely understood the concept of what they were even going to use the book for when they got it. All he knew is that they needed it because it was an item that V clearly cherished and that made it vital to this situation. And somehow it had made even less sense when he had tried to explain things to Nico. Magnolia would have to explain it to her later.

Clearly realizing that his hypertension riddled son wasn’t going to answer his brother’s question, Vergil interjected again. “We need to recover something important and we have a rather short window of time to accomplish our goal.”

Setting aside the fact that Vergil has just used the word “our” for probably the first time in their entire time that Dante had known him, the youngest Son of Sparda stood up at his desk and stretched, yawning. After he had cracked all of his bones, Dante shoveled down the last sliver of pizza in the box on his desk and turned back to face his clearly disgusted twin. “Alright, so how are we gonna get there? Doesn’t the ferry stop after dark?”

Nero nodded. “The last one runs in less than an hour. Which is another reason you need to get your ass in the van so we can go before we miss it!”

Dante chuckled under his breath at Nero’s comment. He was ever the firebrand of the family, no doubt about that. He didn’t respond, but he did decide to reach back and grab his blade off of the back wall. While Fortuna was relatively a cakewalk after the events of the last while, it was still better to be safe than sorry. “Alright, but this better not be the day she decides to drive through a building or something. I’m in enough debt as it is.”

Vergil raised an eyebrow slightly at the statement. “I should look into that one this is over. But Nero is not incorrect. Time is of the essence.”

As the eldest Son of Sparda turned and headed out the door Dante visibly paled. Nero shook his head and snickered as he walked towards the front door with his uncle. “200 bucks says he’s going to beat the living shit out of you when he finds out how far in debt you are, Dante.”

Dante shook his head and passed through the threshold of the front property. “Considering the fact that I still owe Patty those ten ice cream cones, making a bet with me isn’t going to do you any favors.”

Nero mulled over the comment for a moment in confusion before deciding that he’d just ask another time. Right now, they had much more important things to take care of.

~-~

To say that Vergil’s brilliant plan to simply use their Devil Triggers to fly to Fortuna instead of just taking the ferry had been a bust would be a gross understatement. As a general rule, none of them were willing to, under normal circumstances, reveal their true nature to innocent bystanders (unless you counted V…), but there had been no inconspicuous places to trigger at the waterfront, and doing so in the van was an explosive accident waiting to happen, so they had been forced to board the vessel. It wasn’t a huge ferry since cars weren’t exactly used commonly in Fortuna, but no one was going to comment on Nico’s driving abilities or the fact that she was probably the only person going to this island who knew how to fix a car. The vessel was mostly used to transport goods back and forth between the island and the mainland, but it hadn’t taken much effort to get on board at the last minute once one of the former had recognized Nero. For better or worse, seemingly everyone on the island knew who the young white-haired man was. This just happened to be one of the only times that that had been a beneficial thing.

Given the circumstances, Nico was the only one excited to be returning to Fortuna. The young woman missed Kyrie’s cooking and it had been a little while since she’d had the opportunity to terrorize the little ones. Before today, she and Nero had been out of town checking on things in Redgrave city, and before that, they had been out of town doing a mission for a client in Enamel City. Things had been tricky lately. After everything that had happened, the local government on the mainland had addressed the public, announcing an investigation into the matter. Catching the eye of the local authorities didn’t seem like a great idea. But they had left Fortuna alone, at least for the time being.

Nero leaned on the rail looking out across the water. The young devil hunter let out a steadying sigh. Given the fact that they were on the last boat for the night and were going to have to stay the night on the island, it was best that he calm down now as to not upset his family when he arrived at home. The boat would be docking soon, so he had come here to enjoy a last moment of reprieve before they disembarked.

As if carried forward with the breeze, Nero suddenly felt another presence near him. The young descendant of Sparda snuck a glance over his shoulder only to see Vergil walk past him. His father leaned against one of the nearby poles, leaving ample space between them. But somehow Nero could tell that despite the distance between them, Vergil had come here to say something. Or maybe he was just losing his grip and Dante had gotten on his nerves again. Either way, he didn’t spare it much thought. After all, he was trying to relax, and what could be better for his state of mind right now than salty sea air and solitude?

“... So who is Kyrie?”

Nero could practically feel the nerves in his brain pop lose and the neurons die as his brain came to a screeching halt. Vergil seriously wanted to ask him about that right now? This was the furthest from a relaxed topic that he could get at the moment.

To Nero’s continued horror, Vergil briefly smirked before turning slightly away from him. He no longer needed his young son to answer the question. The implications of their relationship were written across his now blush covered face.

Vergil stepped away from the pole and slightly closer to Nero, even if only by a few feet. He folded his arms and leaned over the railing, quietly captivated by the black sea before him. In a way, they reminded the eldest twin of his time in the underworld. Although not quite as luminescent, the mirror shine on the water’s surface was reminiscent of the quicksilver river that Dante had so foolishly questioned if he could drink from earlier that same day. Vergil shook his head silently. Dante would be dead within a few hours if left to his own devices in the underworld.

Nero rubbed his neck in discomfort before looking out across the water again. Vergil couldn’t make eye contact with him if he was faced out across the water sea. Or so he presumed. In all honesty, Vergil’s immense strength and power made Nero question just what he was capable of. He hadn’t forgotten how powerful Urizen had been and he never would. “She’s my, um… girlfriend. Why?”

The younger man hadn’t intended his response to come off so awkward. As he watched Vergil nodded in amused satisfaction, he decided that the best way to get out of this conversation and reclaim his now tarnished reputation was to redirect the question.

“Anyway, while we’re talking about family, where the hell is my mother? Do V and I even have the same parents?”

Despite the fact that Nero didn’t ask the question with any level of malice in his voice, Vergil seemed like he wanted to avoid his son at all costs. He leaned further over the rail, seemingly keying into Nero’s avoidance method and using it to his advantage and stayed quiet. Nero wasn’t sure if he was being ignored by his father or was thinking, but he decided to give Vergil a few more seconds before he got confrontational about it.

Vergil shifted and stood back up straight, his hands resting on the rail. He spared a glance at Nero, half looking at him but still not fully facing him. Nero gave him a sideways look, insinuating that he was still waiting for an answer and that he wasn’t exactly bursting with patience. After an awkward moment that felt more like a standoff, Vergil turned to full-face Nero. Despite his discomfort, the eldest Son of Sparda had never been one to back down from anything, even in situations when it most suited him. Call it a fatal flaw, but it was simply the way he had always been. At least as an adult. “The two of you have different mothers... And I have no idea where they currently are.”

Nero nodded slowly, quietly taking in the information he had just been provided. He was not shocked that Vergil didn’t know where either of them currently lived. After all, he had been in the underworld for probably as long as Nero had been alive. It made sense that he didn’t exactly have them on speed dial. Knowing Vergil, he probably didn’t even use a phone. But that did raise a few questions, some for now and some for later.

“... So do you know which one of us is older, then? Or did you even know you were related before all this bullshit started?” Nero asked sarcastically as he unfolded his arm and placed his hands in his pockets. He was starting to see why his uncle never seemed shocked when his older twin told him something else despicable or unbelievable that he had done. Although, this didn’t seem quite like the other times. Nero couldn’t quite place what it was. Maybe it was his father’s demeanor, his reluctance to speak on the matter, or maybe what he had said back at Magnolia’s house had changed his view towards him a bit, but Nero couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Vergil might actually regret what he had done to the two of them. He wasn’t sure if the eldest Son of Sparda was capable of apologizing, but Nero was willing to be surprised.

Vergil seemed to be becoming used to Nero’s little jabs at him, as the comment didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest. “I knew about him long before I knew about you, but that is... an exceedingly complicated matter for another time,” Vergil glanced in the direction of the van where Nico and Dante currently resided,” As for your second question, you’re younger. I’ve known his mother longer than yours.”

The eldest Son of Sparda paused for a moment, giving his next words careful thought. “... I will look into their locations after this is done. I make no promises.”

As if on cue, the horn for the ferry blew, signaling that it was time to disembark. Vergil headed back towards the van. It seemed that this conversation was done for now. Nero seemed to understand that and opted not to press the issue, for now, opting to head back to the van instead. After all, the ferry was going to dock and then return to the mainland again, with or without them on it. They needed to go. After all of this magic and mayhem was behind them, they would have all the time in the world to talk. That would be the time for concrete answers. As the sun fully fell behind the water blanketed horizon, one thing was certain. A reckoning was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS IS SLIGHTLY LATE!! It’s just past midnight, but family matters came up, so I had to set aside my writing for the majority of the day. Also, this is a shorter chapter than normal by about 1k words or so. My bad! The next chapter is going to be much longer though. Much, much longer. And a lot harder to write lol! But look forward to Friday. This chapter is going to be fun hehe! And once again, thank you for your lovely comments!


	7. Chapter Six: Machinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hey everyone! Thank you all for your understanding about the last chapter being a little shorter and more than a few hours late. Life happened, unfortunately. But thanks for sticking with me anyway! A special thanks to Skylarmorgan1899, Mallovarwen, BeanswithBones, HunterJamie, and RubixaSeraph for your kind words of encouragement. I had a great time responding to your comments, and seeing what you guys thought about the story so far was fascinating and helpful! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and thanks for taking the time to reach out! Now, let’s get back to this long ass chapter!

Chapter Six: Machinations

The ferry made port, it’s foghorn shattering the peaceful serenity of the coastline like a stone through stained glass. The medium-sized vessel eased into it’s designated space between two of the end docks, carefully threading the space. After the ship came to a complete stop, it anchored, finally allowing it’s sizeable ramp to lower and make contact with the road. Before they had left the mainland, one of the deckhands had taken the liberty of informing them that they would only be in Fortuna for about a half-hour before they would be returning home, so leaving as soon as possible was paramount.

With everyone now on board the van, Nico pulled up to the top edge of the ramp. Nero, who was seated in the front seat next to her, took notice and sighed loudly. Nico and everyone else on board clearly noticed, but no one said anything about it.

“Ok, now look. Let’s not do this shit again,” Nero started as Nico reached down to switch the throttle from idle to drive,” Don’t go launching off the-”

Nero’s sensible warning fell on death ears. Just for the hell of it or perhaps form pure spite, Nico floored the gas and the van went flying off of the boat, making virtually no perceivable contact with the offramp. As soon as they landed, the mechanic made a far too tight hard left and sailed up the road, homebound. Nero groaned and rubbed the top of his head as he settled back into his seat. He had just bashed his head against the roof of the van during the landing.

“Seriously, where the fuck did you get a license from?! Are you trying to kill us?!” Nero said through gritted teeth. It was a wonder that the vehicle hadn’t been totally destroyed yet. He’s heard from V during the Redgrave City Disaster that Nico had somehow tunneled through the ground to meet the mysterious devil summoner. Twice. How did a basically square van that was towards the end of its lifecycle even do something like that in the first place? Before Nico had come along and helped him fix it, the old van had barely been able to drive correctly, but act like a boring drill? Just what the fuck? Did V put a spell on it or something?

Nico reached into her front pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placing it in her mouth. “Aw, stop your bellyachin’ and shut up,” Nico said, clearly expecting him to react that way. He always did, after all. This was nothing new. “I don’t know about you, but I wanna get home before dinner starts! Kyrie’s cookin’ is amazin’ and you know it. Now unclench your britches and gimme a light, would ya?”

Nero grumbled and fumbled for the lighter that had been sitting in the cupholder between them before reaching over and lighting her cigarette. Dante burst into laughter from the back seat, leaning over his knees as he sat on the couch across from Vergil. It was always great to see someone give his nephew the same kind of hell that he gave him every day. Nico was a living form of neverending karmic punishment for Nero. Vergil simply watched the situation unfold and shook his head, fully realizing that every single person that Dante and Nero knew was probably insane. Well, except for the gentleman in the suit. He had been relatively fine, although his decision making could be called into question for spending time at the Devil May Cry office with Dante and his cohorts.

The vehicle continued down the road, dodging and weaving its way through parked cars and sudden curves as it headed towards the interior of the dimly lit city. Dante and Nico continued to poke fun at Nero as they went, sufficiently riling him up. Vergil, on the other hand, took the time to think about what they were here for. On their way to the docks back on the mainland, Dante had asked both of them what was going on and Vergil had given him a very succinct answer. He knew that it was best to not go into things at the time. Although they could have still come here without him, the eldest Son of Sparda preferred it this way and wasn’t in the mood for further obstruction of his plans. To be fair, he never had been, but in times like this, keeping things as manageable as possible was key. He didn’t have to worry about his youngest son. Despite the fact that he was their father, he had gleaned from their various interactions that V and Nero had a much stronger relationship than he had with either of them, despite the relatively small amount of time that they had spent with one another. Nero had too much to lose in this investment to just give up and call it quits. Or to cause any issues, for that matter.

Either the ride had gone exceedingly quick due to Nico’s atrocious driving, or Nero’s home had been closer to the shoreline that Vergil would’ve guessed because It took less than ten minutes for them to arrive. The worn-out old vehicle pulled into the side driveway of what seemed to be an old stone and Plaster of Paris building, unremarkable in its appearance compared to the rest of the block. It blended into the busy street, having more than likely been built at the same time as most of the other buildings. The same trademark white and grey store surrounded the first floor, with the exception of the concrete trim that separated the first two feet or so of the home from the pavement below. The upper floors, which there were two of, not counting the possibility of an attic, were covered by a simple, worn coating of medium grey Plaster of Paris. Several white framed windows covered the length of each floor, shielded by curtains inside the home. The side driveway ended in a wooden gate that separated a small yard from an alley. A few children’s toys could be seen littering the short grass. A tiny driveway only a half a dozen feet long next to the side yard led into the metal garage door.

They stopped mid-turn, leaving Nero just enough space to get out and open the folding metal garage door. After he let it up, he stepped to the side and allowed them to pull all the way in. The doors to the van opened and everyone exited through them as the door was being let back down. On the far side of the room, the inside door cautiously opened and bright light flooded the otherwise dark concrete space. A young woman with medium length auburn hair in a long grey and white dress stood in the doorway, seemingly checking to see what had made the noise. Upon seeing them, she sighed in what could only be relief and waved quietly from across the room. “Oh, your home!”

Nero stood from letting the door down and turned to face her. The pair approached one another meeting halfway in the middle of the garage and Kyrie hugged Nero around the waist, clearly happy to see him. “Sorry if I scared you, Kyrie. I should’ve said something. Everything been okay since we’ve been gone?”

She nodded happily and turned to face the rest of their guests. Nico raced up to the young woman, happy to see her bright smile again. “Hey Kyrie,” she practically yelled in glee,” We woulda got back sooner, but we got held up. Hope we didn’t miss dinner!”

Kyrie giggled at the statement and pointed back in the direction of the open door. Three small heads rapidly recoiled back into hiding from the doorway at the sight of the attention being thrown their way. “Of course not! In fact, the children and I were just about to sit down and eat. Feel free to join them. Everything’s hot. I made a lasagna.”

Nico pumped her fist, exclaiming in excitement before taking off running into the house to join the boys. She was now home and had no intention of doing anything besides enjoying a nice hot mean and relaxing. The young couple watched her go, trying not to laugh at her neverending enthusiasm for Kyrie’s delectable cooking. Kyrie then turned back to look towards the van and gasped, holding her hand up to her mouth to try and stifle her breath. She couldn’t believe the sight before her. Dante, she recognized but…

“Dante! It is so good to have you back! We were all worried sick about you,” Kyrie exclaimed joyfully, clearly eager to see the devil slayer in red. As he waived, she spared a curious glance at their last guest, slightly thrown off by the new but familiar face in her home. Nonetheless, she stepped forward, her warm smile inviting and kind. “Hello there, stranger! I don’t think I’ve met you before. Either way, It’s wonderful to meet you.”

To say that Vergi was taken aback by Kyrie’s kindly demeanor and warm persona was an understatement. So this was the young woman who Nero shared a home with? She was lovely. Despite the awkward silence that settled over the two of them, Kyrie continued to smile, paying his silence no mind. After what felt like an eternity to Dante and Nero who were watching from a few feet away, Vergil performed a gesture somewhere between a nod and a bow before quickly returning to his regular upright position. “... Likewise. Nero has mentioned you in passing. I am his father, Vergil.”

To say that Dante and Nero were both very uncomfortable with how friendly Vergil was being would have been a gross understatement.

As if it were somehow possible, Kyrie’s smile brightened. She giggled shyly and gestured with open arms to both of the twins, herding them and Nero in the direction of the house. “I’ve been hoping to meet you! Nero hasn’t stopped talking about you and what happened since you left…” She trailed off as she noticed how pale and destressed Nero looked,” But we can talk about that another time. Dinner is ready and I made extra!”

Nero shook his head and smirked to himself as they crossed into the threshold of the house. Kyrie always made extra. That was just who she was. Like her parents before her, she had always been welcome to strangers from outside of her home, especially when it was someone new to town. It was so rare for an outsider to come and visit Fortuna.

The moment that they stepped into the entryway, Nero was accosted by the presence of three messy haired children who looked like they could all be siblings. The eldest child didn’t look older than six or so and the youngest was maybe two. The middle child seemed to be about four or five, and they all sprouted the same light to medium brown curls with light brown, vibrant eyes. The children were climbing all over Nero in what seemed to be an attempt to topple him and send him crashing to the ground. Dante laughed as Nero pretended to falter under their combined attack before the children pinned him to the floor and showered him with their seemingly endless adorations. It was clear to anyone present that they had missed their adopted father and that sturred something in Vergil that he had never felt before. He hadn’t really considered it too much until now, but this was one experience that he would never have with either of his children, and he couldn’t put to words why that cut him so deeply. He recalled doing the same with his brother whenever their father returned home from taking care of some important task, but he had never considered how little things like being greeted at the door by wide-eyed children could be to be so important until now. He didn’t so much envy Nero as he did feel uncomfortable, even guilty, with the realization that he had inadvertently deprived them all of such a moment.

As if she had read Vergil’s thoughts and wished to spare him from them, Kyrie called them all from the dining room. “I’d hurry if I were you! I think Nico is planning to eat everything herself!”

The children leaped to their feet, exclaiming in horror as they raced into the kitchen, heading towards the dining room. They had no plans of missing out on food again because of their insatiable house guest. Dante headed after them, although not running. One way or another, he was going to get some of that lasagna. As Nero climbed back to his feet, Vergil looked in the direction of the kitchen, lost in thought. The room they stood in connected the front and back doors with doorways on the left and right leading to either end of the home. The walls were adorned with drawings crafted by small children and a clothing hamper willed with unfinished laundry that had probably been put down in a hurry sat on a bench against the wall near an umbrella holder. Several pares of shoes in different sizes were stuffed under it. The house was clearly very well lived in and it carried a comfortable warmth with it. Although significantly smaller than his own childhood home, Vergil would have been lying to himself if he didn’t admit that it reminded him of that long since past chapter of his life.

Nero headed into the kitchen behind Dante, stopping for a second to look back at Vergil. The eldest Son of Sparda had been totally silent now for several minutes. That wasn’t exactly abnormal for him, but Nero still felt the need to make sure he still had a pulse. “You coming or what? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He inquired playfully. Clearly being home had allowed him to let his guard down a bit.

Vergil stared at him blankly, unsure if he was being sarcastic or genuinely inviting him to dinner. “You can’t actually still be hungry. You just consumed an entire platter of croissants an hour ago.”

Nero scoffed. “I can too still be hungry and I am. Now get in here so we can all eat. Kyrie isn’t going to start without us, and the kids need to be put to bed. It’s getting pretty late and knowing her she probably has important volunteer work to do in the morning.”

Vergil continued to state at him, this time in vaguely concealed disbelief. Nero was actually serious. Vergil folded his arms and furrowed his brow, unable to comprehend what he was being told. “So let me get this straight. I cut off your arm meer months ago in that very garage,” Vergil tilted his head in the direction of the door behind him,” And now your lovely girlfriend is inviting me in and you’re standing here just feet from where you nearly perished and insisting that I eat dinner with you and your children? Am I correct?”

Nero flinched inwardly a the unpleasant reminder and Vergil’s blunt statement, but nodded in earnest anyway. “I invited you to dinner last time you were here. It’s not my fault that you decided to be a total bastard and tear my goddamn arm off instead of sitting down and having a meal with us.” 

Vergil would never admit it if asked, but he was taken aback by his son’s sincerity. There was no way that he had been forgiven for his actions. After all, a severed limb was no easy thing to recover from. Fresh out of excuses and questions, Vergil gave up and opted to follow Nero into the dining room. He hadn’t eaten dinner with anyone in his family in well over two decades and yet, he didn’t dread this as his logical mind told him that he should. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he figured it would be…

-~-

The dinner had gone over surprisingly well, despite the fact that Nico and Nero’s middle child Kyle hadn’t shut up the entire meal. It had been a good time filled with laughs, playful jokes, and adorable children making equally adorable funny faces. Vergil wasn’t one to laugh, be he had been amused at the very least. The children were… charming. And that was to say nothing about the lasagna that Kyrie had made. It had been unnaturally delicious. The eldest Son of Sparda found himself questioning if the young auburn-haired woman possessed some magical powers of her own. Assuming that her skills had simply been overstated had been a mistake on his part, and no one at the table that night was ever going to get over the fact that Vergil had actually requested an additional serving.

Once the meal had been finished, Nero had forced Dante to help him do the dishes while Kyrie herded the children off to their bedroom. Vergil had overheard Nico say something about them voluntarily sharing a room after the attack had happened because they felt safer that way. The oldest child, Julio had sworn to protect his younger sibling, despite not being older than seven and having no experience with weapons. Vergil’s attack on the house and the near loss of their beloved adopted father had apparently been quite traumatic for them. Wonderful, now Vergil could add “emotionally scaring helpless wide-eyed orphans” to his long list of sins. As a result of his actions, there was an extra room on the main floor that they planned to use as a guest room, but right now, it was full of boxes stacked on top of a spare bed. It was unfortunately useless at the moment, which was a shame considering the fact that they would be staying the night here. The ferry ran every two hours or so, starting at around 9 am when visibility was better. Fish was a popular export here, but fog could be an issue at times.

After Nico and Kyrie had headed off to bed, Nero joined Dante and Vergil in the living room. The two had retired here while the children were being put to bed so as to not disturb them. Nero flopped down across from them and opened a drawer on the coffee table between them, producing an elusive yet oh so familiar brown and gold leather book. Vergil sighed quietly. Now that was truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Kyrie said she put the book in here today when she was cleaning up. She wanted to make sure the kids didn’t get it. They can be pretty rough, and anything they see that’s made of paper, they draw on.” Nero said casually. He was clearly tired and in need of a good night’s rest.

Vergil reached out and took the book from Nero, taking a moment to look at it. Of all the things to survive this long, he would have never guessed that this memento from a kind neighbor would survive this long. For a moment, Vergil wondered if that man was still alive. He silently hoped that he hadn’t been living in the Redgrave city during the attack. Maybe one day he would find out. He turned the book over in his hands and opened the front cover. To his surprise, what he was looking for was still there. Funny, he’d expected it to have worn off by now.

“... I wrote my name in this book when I received it,” Vergil said simply, reminiscing about the day that the kind man living next door to them had given him such a wonderful gift,” Dante had a nasty habit of making things I owned disappear when we were children, especially if my name was not on them. The fireplace was never short on kindling.”

Dante shrugged uncomfortably as Nero gave him a disapproving look. He was worse than his kids! “Yea, um... Probably shouldn’t have done that. My bad, Vergil.”

Vergil didn’t answer verbally, but he gave a small nod. He would consider his younger twins half-ass apology at a later time.

Nero yawned as he stood up and stretched. He was at his limit for today. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed. The guest room is out of commission, for now, so your gonna have to stay in here. Nothing I can do about it tonight.”

With that, Nero headed out of the room and left them to their own devices. Unless the house caught fire, he didn’t want to hear anything but the sound of his own snoring.

-~-

It was early in the morning when they finally left the house and headed towards the docks. The sky was a beautiful mixture of several shades of orange, pink, and purple, the vibrant colors reflecting in mesmerizing swirls off of the placid waters of the large bay area that separated Fortuna from the mainland. Despite the thin layer of mist that covered the portside as they docked, the return trip almost seemed to go faster than it had the night before. Or maybe it was just anticipation. Who knew?

They arrived just after twelve. The boat pulled into the dock and anchored the same way it had the previous night, only allowing the ramp to be let down after everything had come to a complete stop. And just as she had the night before, Nico rocked off of the boat at a speed that could probably shatter the sound barrier. Nero didn’t know how it was possible, but she continued to shock him at just how dreadful she was at driving. How in the hell had she not killed them all in a wreck yet?!

As soon as they left the docks, they headed towards Magnolia’s house. She lived much closer to the docks than Dante did, which was fortunate considering that time was of the essence. The alchemist had predicted that they had seventy-two hours to get this done, but the eldest Son of Sparda knew better than most that nothing was concrete when you were dealing with the underworld, especially time. That was a very generous estimate, given the circumstances.

Dante was in his usual spot on the couch, reading one of the magazines that he had probably read a thousand times before. But it was better than talking about the matter at hand. After all, he didn’t really understand how this was supposed to work, and it would probably be easier to just ask the woman who would be casting the spells when they finally met. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this entire situation, to be honest. Up until now, he had always figured that death was pretty much final. But if Vergil could come back from the great beyond, then perhaps this could work after all. What had happened to V was awful, he wouldn’t argue that… but he would hold his opinion on this situation until after he saw the results. But a the same time, he couldn’t help but ask himself if there was a reason that more people didn’t do something like this? The death of a loved one was always agony. And it always would be. If there was a way to reverse that, then why wasn’t it more commonly used?

As he pondered this, the van came to a sudden and hard stop. They had arrived. Nero leaned out the window and looked over toward the front door, squinting to make out something. “Looks like there’s some kind of note on the door… I can’t make out what it says from here though.”

Nico shrugged, unsure of what type of response he was hoping to elicit from that statement. “Well, take your ass over there and go and get it, then! We don’t got all day!”

Nero gave her a “duh” look and popped open the door, hopping down onto the pavement. He then jogged up the steps to the front door, glancing back at the van as he went. He couldn’t quite place why, but he had a bad feeling about this. Upon reaching the front door, he found a note stuck under the knocker. It was scrawled in an elegant script, seemingly written with some sort of ink. He pulled it off the door and hurried back to the van, unsure of what to make of it. As he climbed back into the waiting vehicle, he was met with an uncomfortably tense atmosphere. In an instant, everyone seemed to be expecting the worse.

“What does it say?” Vergil inquired. He didn’t sound worried so much as he did morbidly curious.

Nero turned the piece of cardstock paper over in his hand, his forehead scrunching as he took in the information. “2460 Zephyr Court?” Is that a street around here or something?”

Dante nodded. “Yea, It’s an off-street to the one that Bobby’s Cellar is on. Haven’t been down that way in a long time. It’s the cross street at the other end of that block.”

Vergil could practically taste the disgust he felt at the mention of that godforsaken bar. If it was possible to develop indigestion from hearing a word, he would have just done it. Nico took the note in her hand and looked it over before shrugging and putting the car into reverse and heading off again. She’d had passed by that bar a while back with Nero when they were heading out of town to go take care of a mission. It was on the outer edge of town on a wooded block that headed up into the mountains. What could this Magnolia woman want them to come there for? Was this some sort of trick?

As they hurried down the road, Dante couldn’t help but note the bitter irony of their situation. Never in his entire life did he think that he’d be heading past Bobby’s Cellar with Vergil and Nell Goldstine’s granddaughter. If you’d told him that a decade or so ago, he would’ve probably written it off as an awful joke. And yet here they were, doing just that. And to try and save a member of his own family at that. Absolutely unbelievable.

After several agonizing minutes of silent trepidation, the van turned onto Zephyr Street. They scanned the outside of every building looking for the correct address, noting that the area was mostly deserted. What buildings there were seemed to be boarded up, no one having stepped foot inside of them for a very long time. As they navigated their way through the seemingly forsaken city block, Nico pointed down one of the side drives towards what seemed to be an old warehouse or factory building. “I think that might be it over there! Let’s go check it out!”

With that, she made a sharp left and turned onto a little dead-end street. As she veered right and pulled into the broken old wire fence, they all got a better look at the building. It was a two-story brick warehouse with led glass windows. In the space where a single huge sliding barn door used to be was an opening into the building. From inside they caught a glimpse of a passing light. Tall pine trees lined the entire lot, making it a very secluded and out of the way area. As such, it was very dark here. She pulled into the worn-out gravel parking lot and stopped the car, jarring everyone inside. Nico then cut the engine and handed Nero back the note they had found on Magnolia’s front door before turning her attention to her passengers. “Alright, this is the place on that note Nero found. Address matches up and stuff. I’m stayin’ out here in case we need to leave in a hurry or somethin’. Holler if you need me.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and stood up. There wasn’t any time to lose. Nero hopped out of the front of the car while Dante and Vergil took the side door. As they exited, Dante exhaled, the reality of what they were here to do sinking in deeper. 

“... Vergil, do you really think this is really gonna work?” He asked quietly. Nero had gone ahead of them to investigate the building.

Vergil stopped just ahead of his brother but didn’t turn in to face him. He glanced up, noticing that the overcast seemed to be darkening, much like his fatalistic mood at the moment. The wind was picking up as well. A thunderstorm seemed to be rolling in. He then let out a long sigh and looked down slightly, seemingly taking his brother’s words to heart. “...It has to…” He said so quietly that Dante nearly didn’t pick it up from behind him. The Youngest Son of Sparda felt the words more than he heard them. There was a note of finality and desperation when his brother spoke that he was unfamiliar with. Dante wanted to say something, but decided against it and made the decision to just follow his twin brother into the building instead. Considering how high the stakes were right now, this just wasn’t the right time for that conversation.

They entered the building and nearly walked into Nero. The younger man was standing in the middle of the space, looking around in seemingly every direction at once. The woman they had come here to meet was nowhere in sight. Nero held up the note she had left on her door and, to his surprise, the piece of cardstock suddenly caught fire and turned into a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. Nero released the remnants and let them fall to the ground, surprised but unwilling to dwell on it. He looked down the corridor into the next doorway. It led into a black room that he couldn’t see into very well.

“Hey Magnolia! You there?!” He shouted, startling all of the nearby pigeons into taking flight,” We got what you asked for! Were back!”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them. The three descendants of Sparda looked at one another before silently deciding to approach the darker back section of the building. Perhaps she hadn’t heard them? Just as they reached the doorway, a figure in a dark teal knee high dress appeared from seemingly nowhere and met them in the doorway. She seemed slightly out of breath. She bent over and put her hands on her knees, panting for a moment before standing up and exhaling, regaining her lost composure.

“Oh, please forgive me,” Magnolia said as she took several deep breaths,” I was in the middle of reading an incantation, so I couldn’t respond. Sorry for the note. It didn’t cross my mind to request your phone number before you left. But you lot are all here now, and that’s lovely because we’re a bit short on time.”

Magnolia gestured for them to follow her and they all headed into the room, now realizing that the impenetrable darkness was due to a tinted plastic screen that covered the doorway and a litany of boarded-up windows. Strange glowing symbols were written on different surfaces around the room, making up a semi triangular shape. They seemed to be scrawled in chalk or something similar. Dante raised an eyebrow at the setup. “So, where’s the blood and bones and the candles and stuff?”

Magnolia put her hand on her hip and gave him a sassy but humorous look. “You lot really are twins, aren’t you? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” She said smiling as she turned and headed towards the center of the room,” Sorry to disappoint love, but this isn’t that kind of spell, although there is a bit of bone ash in the chalk. It’s just old chicken bones though. That said, I do need that book Nero mentioned before. I came here and set up everything while you were gone. It took me all night, so I apologize if I’m a bit out of sorts. I haven’t had a wink of sleep.”

Vergil stepped forward and handed her the aged book, careful not to drag his feet over one of the nearby symbols. She took it and nodded graciously, positioning it towards the middle of the work area. She then stepped back and grabbed something off of a nearby cardboard box. It was the hourglass from before. And the top was nearly empty.

Nero blanched. “It took a lot less time than you said it would…”

Magnolia nodded, a grim look on her face. “Yes, it accelerated considerably after you left. That’s why I started preparing this the moment you were gone. I wanted to make sure we had enough time,” She gestured towards the ground,” Vergil, I’m going to need you to make a perimeter around the outside of the symbols with your blood. Hurry, we don’t have much time!”

Vergil looked at his longtime companion as if she had lost her mind for a moment before obliging her. He didn’t have time to ask why she needed him to do this, and he had a feeling he knew why anyway. During his youth, he had studied up on this sort of thing. Although the way this spell worked was far from ideal, a direct blood bond was integral to the functionality of the spell and they had no other option. As he had done last time, the eldest Son of Sparda used Yamato to slice open his palm and apply the line around the markings. He then sheathed the blade and stepped back out of the way.

The alchemist examined his handiwork and nodded, griping the hourglass tightly. “Well then… this is it,” She said solemnly,” If this does not work as intended, know that I did everything that I could. Spells like this are complicated, and they always come at a cost. Sorry to make you come all the way out here on such short notice. I just wanted to make sure that this didn’t happen at my house, especially with all the attention demonic activity has garnered as of late. Stand back. This could be dangerous.”

With that said, everyone stepped back and watched as Magnolia began to read an incantation out loud. She spoke clearly, though no one there aside from maybe Vergil could make out any of the language used. The ground trembled as dust suddenly began to rise off of the ground and into the air. Dust swirled around the symbols on the ground, forming a circular column that rose several dozen feet into the air towards the small hole in the triple-height ceiling. The ground cracked deeply along the outline of the line that Vergil had drawn in his own blood and the air became statically charged and cold. The walls developed hairline cracks and the boarded-up windows trembled in their frames. A low, rhythmic thump could be heard throughout the room, although that could simply be their collective heartbeats hammering in their chests as the chant intensified. 

On the very last word of the spell, Magnolia took the hourglass and threw it forward towards the center of the swirling black miasma as the once small opening in the roof sheered open to make way for a white-hot bolt of lightning. It crashed down with a deafening boom and made impact with the hourglass, shattering it into a red mist and blasting everyone back against the walls, knocking the wind out of them. The black smoke streaked red and then glowed bright purple, humming vibrantly before releasing one last devastatingly powerful shockwave that succeeded in shattering the remaining glass out of every single window in the building. The swirling mass then emitted a loud, otherworldly howl before the cracks along the ground swallowed it up and snatched it into the underworld, closing with a loud boom. And then everything went completely silent.

So much for being inconspicuous…

Everyone gagged and moaned as they collected themselves and tried to force themselves to stand up. Nero was the first to succeed, perhaps due to being the youngest and therefore the most flexible. He leaped to his feet and cautiously inched his way towards the center of the room, waiving residual dust away from his burning eyes as he approached. A wall of fine dust particles floated around the area where the column of blood, chalk, ash, and dust had once been, blocking all sight. As Nero stepped through into the open space he stopped dead in his tracks. To his utter amazement and disbelief, laying prone face to the side on the concrete ground was V. 

And he was missing all of his clothing. Wonderful.

Nero couldn’t believe that this batshit crazy plan had actually worked! As he heard the others stir around him from different ends of the room, he made the split-second decision to shrug out of his coat and use it to cover him with it in the absence of another alternative. He couldn’t place why, but he felt it was necessary aside from the obvious reason that he didn’t really want to see him this way. As he wrapped him in the worn, warm garment, he noticed something that troubled him. He didn’t seem to be breathing. At all.

Nero reached up and brushed V’s hair out of his face, truly noticing for perhaps the first time ever that V had white hair. How in the absolute fuck had he missed that?! Had he been so carried away fighting that he simply didn’t pay it any mind? And for that matter, where were his tattoos? As thought-provoking as all of those questions were, he had bigger things to worry about right now. Nero carefully rested his hand against V’s throat to check his pulse in a gesture that he just knew would have made him crawl out of his skin if he were awake. After a short moment that felt like an eternity, Nero exhaled in relief. V had a pulse. Good. That was something, at least.

From his position leaned over him, he could just barely feel V’s breath ghost across the nearly imperceivable hairs that adorned his now bare arm. As he recoiled his hand, the prone man let out a ragged, almost pained cough as if the air had been pulled from his body and he had been plunged underwater, only now being reacquainted with oxygen for the first time in a long while. He gasped and then coughed feebly, trembling. Nero wasn’t entirely sure what to do about this, so he reached over and gave him a few firm but careful pats on the upper back, trying to help him clear his throat. V jerked slightly at the contact but stopped coughing, his breathing still shaky but much better than it had been moments ago. He curled up into the coat, pulling his legs closer to his chest. He seemed cold from what his brother could tell. Nero wasn’t sure if he had actually helped or not, but he was going to keep telling himself that he had. It made him less anxious.

Just then, Dante, Vergil, and Magnolia stepped forward to observe the scene. They all seemed to be in a similar state of disbelief and relief to the one that he had felt upon seeing the young summoner again. Nero sighed in relief and looked up at them from his position on the floor, totally overcome by the shock of what they had just succeeded in doing. V had migrated closer to him, the top of his head propped up against his lower leg. “... He’s actually alive,” Nero said as though he couldn’t believe the words that he was speaking,” It actually worked...”

Dante and Vergil exchanged unreadable glances and looked down at V, still somewhat unable to process what had just happened. Magnolia broke the silence with a short, crazed laugh. She was in total shock. “Oh my- I am most certainly going to hell for this one!” She looked down at V and sighed, nodding to herself in self-satisfaction. So this was who all the fuss was about. “But I have the feeling that this might be worth it. He’s a cute kid, after all.”

Vergil nodded quietly, not entirely sure what to say. Thank you would never be enough. He would need to find a better way of thanking her. “You are absolutely right, Magnolia. This is worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW!! After two days of sleepless nights and 6.8k words, this chapter is DONE. Thank goodness this is the Friday release because my brain and my hands need a good break. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Everything is going to really kick off from here, and I am so glad that I finally made it to this part of the story! Once again, thank you all for taking the time to comment and read the story. It’s very helpful and it always makes me smile! Now, I’m going to go eat dinner… and work on the first chapter of the story that V will actually be in! Gah, it is so nice to finally be able to say that!


	8. Chapter Seven: Abscond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I just wanted to start by saying that chapter six was an absolute nightmare to write, but I had a great time doing it nonetheless. I’ve spent a few months trying to get myself to write this fic, and that resurrection scene was basically the whole reason. Trying to figure out a way to do that and make it make sense, fit into the existing confines of the series, and be coherent and enjoyable to read made for quite the crippling challenge, so I am thrilled by the reception that that chapter received! I remain humbled by your kind comments and warm words of encouragement! Thank you to every single person who commented, reblogged, gave kudos, and sent me messages about the story. I’d name you all, but in addition to everyone who has ever left me feedback on the previous chapters, almost 200 new people read the last chapter, so I can’t list you all by name. However, I can say thank you. Thank you all so much!

Chapter Seven: Abscond

The overcast that had loomed overhead as they had entered the building was now more prevalent than ever. Be it a result of their current actions, some form of an ominous omen, or simply impeccably timed weather, it alluded to a coming storm of epic proportions. Huge dark clouds that would cause any right-minded pedestrian to check the current time of day spread across the sky in a vast network, chilling the air and absorbing all forms of light. The once gentle breeze was now a harsh wind, hammering against every surface it came across. It had been a glooming day from the very moment that the sun had come up that morning, but this was really kicking things into high gear.

As Magnolia collected what remained of the sparse materials she had brought with her to conduct the ritual, Nero oversaw V’s condition. The newly resurrected young man seemed to be semi-continuous, having still not opened his eyes since being brought back to the realm of the living, but able to react to physical stimuli. While it made sense to Nero on some level that he would not be fully operational out the gate (since he had never really been in the time he had known him) he still found himself unable to shake the feeling of uncertainty that had lodged itself deep into his subconscious.

He was worried about V.

Now that was something he never imagined he’d experience again...

As Dante and Vergil combed the space per Magnolia’s request to make sure there were no overt signs of demonic activity still present in the building, the youngest Descendant of Sparda went over a vague mental checklist in his mind. On the top of that list was the obvious question of where the hell V was going to go for the time being. While the Devil May Cry office was an obvious choice, there was the issue of Vergil’s undeniably recent return to contend with. Nero didn’t even need to ask if Dante knew where Vergil was staying at his office right now. They hadn’t been home long enough to see to that. For all the young white-haired man knew, his father had evolved to no longer require sleep during his time in the underworld. But V was going to be a different story. He just knew it. He had always been a different story; an exception to every rule.

“Hey, Magnolia,” Nero called to the alchemist as she packed up the last of her supplies,” Should I be worried that he looks like he’s in a coma or something?”

The woman in question shook her head as she closed the buckle clasps on her carrying case. “Being in a coma is no laughing matter, little one. Relatively speaking, it’s about as close to passing into Purgatorio as one can possibly get without actually being deceased.”

Nero chuckled to himself, nodding with an amused look on his face. “You don’t have to tell me that. I spent some time that way myself a little while back. Woke up one night to this one,” Nero said as he gestured towards V,” sitting in my window reading a book ready to offer me a job like I wasn’t already half-dead already or something. That’s how we met.”

Magnolia didn’t know what to say to that. While one part of her wanted to know what the hell had happened to him that ended with him comatose in the first place, her mind couldn’t help but find humor in the mental image of a person contracting someone to fight the envoys of the Underworld in their sickbed after seemingly breaking into their home. She decided that she would ask for more details when all parties involved were capable of speaking. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m glad to see that you're faring so well, dear. Hopefully, there will be fewer close calls in your future.”

Nero wasn’t entirely sure if she was being sarcastic or if the Alchemist was genuinely happy for his good health. She just had one of those voices, and the accent wasn’t helping in the slightest. “Thanks, I guess. Anyway, does bringing someone back from the afterlife or whatever come with a manual, because I feel like there’s something I’m missing in all of this.”

It was her turn to laugh now. She pulled the rolling case into an upright position and headed towards the front entrance, presumably heading to the van or some other form of transportation. After all, it was unlikely that she had walked here carrying all of these supplies from nearly twenty miles away up a gradual slope. Nero carefully lifted V bridal style and followed her. Somehow he weighed even less than he had originally estimated, if that was at all possible. Maybe after he had clothing on, his body weight would be more substantial. 

As cold as it was starting to get both inside and outside of the building, leaving him laying on bare concrete in -well, nothing- was probably a bad idea. As he followed her, she stopped, snickering to herself at the situation at hand, and decided to answer his question. “He should be more or less fine now. The hard part was relocating his soul to another plane of existence,” She spoke calmly, in a manner reminiscent of a professor giving a lecture,” The poor thing is going to be whether weak for a while though. Any inborn gifts he possessed prior to all this nonsense will trickle back in gradually, though in the meantime he will be effectively human. No passive regeneration, sixth sense, or anything like that for at least a week or so. I’m no doctor, but I’m going to take the initiative here and recommend bed rest. Extensively. What he just endured is taxing on the mind and body in every way conceivable, even for someone young and in good health. Don’t be surprised if he experiences dizzy spells or fainting. Proper nutrition is helpful, but this could still take a while.”

Nero nodded to himself as he took in the information she had just given him. Nothing seemed unreasonable, but it did clarify one thing for him. He needed to talk to Dante and Vergil. He chuckled to himself as he followed Magnolia, garnering a curious glance from her as they exited the building. “I fail to see the humor in this.”

In response to her statement, Nero smirked knowingly. “It’s not funny, it’s ironic,” He said. Her blank repose signaled that he needed to elaborate.” What I mean is you said he might faint and that for someone “in good health” this could be a lot to go to, right?”

She nodded, barely noticing the transition between the indoor and outdoor lighting as they exited the building and stepped out into the parking lot. “Yes. I said that. Why?”

Nero approached the van, using his foot to knock on the side door and signal Nico to open it. “Well, it’s ironic because he’s not “in good health” to start with. He’s walked with a cane the entire time I’ve known him and he’s constantly coughing or tripping over himself. Not to be an asshole or anything, but if I’m magnetically attracted to stairs, then he’s magnetically attracted to the ground ’cause that’s where he spends a lot of his free time.”

Magnolia blinked, her wide eyes filled with a sudden understanding and sympathy that she made no effort of hiding. Suddenly, what little desire she held to know how the young man before her had met his end fled her. It was unusual for someone his age to walk with a cane, especially one with a measurable amount of demon blood coursing through his veins. When he was more stable, she would need to take the time to try and consult with him. Perhaps there was something she could do to help…

As Nico opened the van door, Dante and Vergil exited the building. They arrived just in time to watch Nico’s frankly astounding facial expression at the sight of the presumably deceased demon slayer. “Well fuck,” she said as she stepped back to give the onboarding party room,” Every time you get in this van Nero, some weird shit happens; I swear. How the hell did yall- you know what? I don’t even wanna know! Let’s get outta here. Where are we headed?”

Magnolia pointed across the parking lot to the side of the building. They couldn’t see what she was pointing at, but they could only assume that it was her means of transportation. “I just wanted to see you off. I need to get back to my shop. Come see me later. And call me if you need anything,” She glanced at the oldest Son of Sparda, her eyes narrowing harshly,” Except you, Vergil. Your allowed casual visits at most.”

With that, she handed a slip of folded paper to Nero before hurrying off across the parking lot. Nico snickered briefly before looking at her passengers. She still needed a destination. Nero glanced between the twins and his friend as he laid V down on the couch. The summoner coughed weakly, teasing the possibility of opening his eyes for a moment before exhaling and settling back into his previous state, only this time more asleep than awake. Nero watched him for a moment before nodding to himself, his resolve towards the decision he had been teetering back and forth on now absolute. “... I think me and Nico should take V back to Fortuna with us.”

Dante and Vergil did a double-take, seemingly more surprised at his sudden uptake in initiative than offended by the statement. Dante seemed to consider quietly the statement, while Vergil seemed more apprehensive. 

“Why?” The eldest Son of Sparda said bluntly. He was clearly unconvinced.

Nero settled into a sitting position of the floor with his side against the couch, seemingly uninterested in heaving V’s proximity. Whether this was a conscious or subconscious decision or not remained to be seen, but he did so nonetheless. “Because there is a metric shit ton less demonic activity there than there is in Redgrave and Capulet and because I’m the only one here who isn’t going to get in an argument with my brother and literally destroy my own house. Magnolia said he needs bed rest and all that shit, and the only peaceful kinda peaceful place is my house. That, and your extra bedroom is taken, Dante,” Nero tilted his head in his father’s direction,” And I just happen to have an extra room at my place since someone decided to scare my kids back into one room!”

Vergil glanced away at the last statement, still unwilling to think about the mental damage he had probably inflicted upon those wide-eyed, chatty, orphans. “So you actually believe that three actual children can be that well behaved and we can't?”

Nero didn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. “Yea, because when I turn on the tv, they sit down and watch it. You can’t even turn a TV off without unplugging it, and your only means of communication with your own brother is stabbing each other to death. Plus, Dante’s doors get kicked in like every fucking week and he blasts loud ass music all the damn time. That’s literally the opposite or a restful environment!”

Dante shrugged incredulously. As much as he’d like to make some sort of witty comeback, Nero wasn’t exactly incorrect. Vergil closed his eyes as if he were deep in thought for a long moment as Nico tried not to laugh at this whole situation from the driver’s seat. Everyone in this family was a walking disaster and it was amazing that they had survived this long. After a minute that felt like a lifetime, Vergil sighed and leaned back against the window next to Dante who was now sitting down across from the couch and searching for a magazine to pretend to read to avoid this uncomfortable conversation. “... Do not disappoint me, Nero… I do not give my trust light.”

Dante interjected with a quick “no he really doesn’t” before continuing to reread his magazine for the millionth time. Vergil shot him a quick glare before returning his gaze to Nero. There was no humor present in his demeanor. Nero glanced between him and V before nodding slowly in agreement. “I’m not going to.”

-~-

It had taken almost every ounce of daylight to drop Dante and Vergil off and then head back to the pier. And their timing couldn’t have been better as the ferry was stopping with the next round trip. The possibility of a thunderstorm had halted most water traffic, and all water transport between the island and the mainland was due to cease immediately upon the vessel’s return. That left just enough time to sneak one last trip in.

As the ship was docking, Nero called Kyrie to alert her of their arrival and to inform her that they would have another houseguest for a while. As expected, she didn’t protest the idea. In fact, she seemed thrilled, though that could be because Nero hadn’t elaborated on the context of the stay or who was coming over. V and Kyrie had never met one another, despite the fact that V had come to their home once before. But it had been during the middle of the night and the young summoner had been in something of a hurry at the time. There had been no time for pleasantries back then. But that was about to change. Hopefully.

As they pulled up to the onboarding ramp, Nero gave Nico the closest thing he could to a serious look. Before he could ask her not to go flying off the ramp, she disembarked, taking the ramp for perhaps the first time ever. Nero was utterly flabbergasted. “Nico, what the fuck?!”

Nico put her cigarette out in the ashtray she had placed in one of the cup holders. “What is it this time? If I drive carefully, you bitch at me. If I don’t, you bitch at me. Are ya crazy or somethin’? If you think you can do better, then you drive next time and I’ll take a nap in the back with him!”

Nero stared at her incredulously as she pulled around the corner and headed towards their shared residence. Nico absolutely never under any circumstance drove like a normal human being. He wasn’t sure if knowing that she could do that made him feel relieved or upset. She could have just driven the van like this the entire time he had known her? What the absolute fuck?

“So ya gonna keep starin’ at me like that or what?” Nico asked casually. Nero was at a loss for words and it showed.

As the van pulled onto the street that they called home, Nero stood up and walked over to V. Despite the fact that he still hadn’t woken up, he now looked more asleep than unconscious. Or at least that was what Nero thought. When he had first been brought back, he looked distressed, uncomfortable even. Now he seemed more at ease. At the very least, his breathing had been steady and he hadn’t coughed in at least an hour. He seemed stable. Nero couldn’t help but wonder if he was just a very deep sleeper and had been taking a much-needed nap this entire time. He doubted it, but still. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he had actually seen the summoner sleep. During their time together during the Redgrave city incident, they had taken the occasional break, but V had been so preoccupied with his book that he hadn’t even sat down, always choosing to lean against the stove in the van’s kitchenette instead. Vergil had the book now, perhaps using it as a bargaining tool for later. He wasn’t much of a talker, a fact that had bothered Nero when they had first met. Who would have ever guessed that they’d be in the situation that they were in now, Nero bringing him to stay at his place? Wild shit happened sometimes.

“It’s just good to know that you can actually drive. Though I still don’t understand how you ever got a license.” Nero said as they pulled into the back alley that led to their driveway. For once, the door was open. Kyrie must have let it up after their conversation on the phone earlier. Nico climbed out of her seat and headed over to the side door, opening it and then hoping down to hold it open for Nero.

“Yea, well I wasn’t tryin’ to knock him around too much. He already walks with a cane.” Nico said as she stepped back towards the rear of the van. With the large vehicle inside of the garage, space was at a premium, and carrying someone required more room than normal. Nero fixed his jacket around V and scooped him up, nearly bashing his legs against the kitchen cabinet as he turned. The youngest Descendant of Sparda cringed to himself. That was one thing the two of them seemed to have in common to some degree. They were both clumsy as hell.

Taking a few cues from his close call a moment prior, he descended the stairs carefully and headed towards the inside door. Nico closed the door behind him and squeezed past them, heading to open the door for them. She nearly walked right into Kyrie as she did so. The young red-haired woman was carrying a stack of cardboard boxes and Nico had nearly sent her crashing to the floor as the door caught her in the side. She set the boxes down on the bench behind her and stepped back out of the way, clearly startled.

“My bad Kyrie,” Nico said as she looked her over for injuries,” I couldn’t see you!”

Kyrie smiled brightly and gestured towards the boxes. “You’re just fine, Nico. The children and I were cleaning out the extra room. There wasn’t really much in there, so I was hoping I’d be done before you arrived. These were the last three boxes. All of this was going on the empty shelves in the garage-”

Nico eagerly grabbed the stack of boxes as Nero entered behind her. “Ok, I’ll take care of it for you,” the young dark-haired woman said as she stepped out behind Nero and out into the garage. Kyrie was going to inform her that she could take care of it herself, but Nico disappeared behind the closed door before she could. The young redhead shook her head and giggled to herself as she turned to face Nero. During her time here, she had truly come to enjoy Nico’s extreme personality. She was a joy to be around.

The moment she caught sight of the white-haired young man her domestic partner was carrying, she went wide-eyed, her head crooking to the side in surprise. Who in Sparda’s name was this newcomer? Nero shifted anxiously. Maybe it was better if he just spit it out and got it over with? “Hey so… this is V, the guy I told you about when I came back after everything,” He said cautiously, unsure of how she was taking all of this,” It turns out that being dead is more complicated than everybody thinks, so he’s alive again. And… he’s kinda my brother so…”

Kyrie stared at him blankly. That was a little too much for her to take in all at once. She glanced down at their sleeping guest, leaning over him to get a better look. That made sense. They did have the same color hair, even though his looked a little whiter than Neros did to her. She was totally taken aback at the implications of what Nero had just said. He’d come back from the dead? Nero had told her Vergil had done that at one point, so the idea wasn’t completely foreign to her, but Nero had a brother? In the entire time that she had known him, she would have never guessed that he had siblings. He had always been so… alone. After all, being an orphan made it very difficult to locate your original family. It made her wonder what Nero must be thinking about all of this. As startled as she was, it had to be several times worse for him.

She smiled softly and gestured towards the guest room. It was on the opposite side of the house from the dining room. Being the only room on this floor and having its own small ensuite bathroom, it had been the natural choice for a guest room. She patted Nero gently as he passed her before turning towards the dining room. “It’s okay. I know you did the right thing, Nero. I’ll go get some extra blankets. I put a sheet and some pillows on the bed after I finished dusting, but I didn’t get a chance to do anything else.”

Nero stared at her as she walked off for a moment, relieved that she had taken that so well. She’d have probably told him off for his reaction if she’d been present at the time. Her understanding meant the world to him. “It’s okay, Kyrie. You do enough as it is.”

She waved at him over her shoulder as she rounded the corner into the next room and disappeared. He used his foot to nudge open the door and walked, taking a moment to look around. Aside from the built-in bookcase that had always been in the room near the door and the bed that jutted out into the center of the room, the entire room was spotless. The large window on the far side of the room that overlooked the small side yard where the children normally played was open, likely to let in the fresh air. Nero laid V down and sat at the foot of the bed, only now really registering how unreal this entire situation seemed to him. A moment later, Kyrie returned with a stack of about six blankets. Nero raised an eyebrow at her as she stuffed them into one of the open shelves on the bookcase and then used one to cover him up. It was a plush grey knitted blanket that she had made herself a while back. As soon as he was covered up, Nero unwrapped his jacket from around him and tucked it under his arm, returning his attention to Kyrie. She shrugged at his obvious confusion.

“I didn’t want him to be cold,” She said simply, gesturing towards the oversized stash of warm, thick blankets,”... Why was he wrapped in your coat? Is he okay?”

Nero looked over at V. He had stirred slightly, pulling the soft blanket tighter around himself. Now that Nero thought about it, Kyrie was probably correct. It had been abnormally cold for the last few hours. Having no clothes on had probably been uncomfortable, to say the least. “... I think he’s going to be alright. Supposedly he just needs to rest” Nero glanced over at the pile of blankets again, nodding to himself,” Thanks for the blankets. He doesn’t have any clothes on, so that’s probably going to be good for him. Probably should have said that before...”

Kyrie blushed bright red. “OH. I’m sorry then! I’ll go see if I can find him something!”

Before he could say anything, Kyrie hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. He shook his head and laughed to himself. Poor kyrie. She probably felt like she had violated V’s personal space. He stood up and pulled an extra cover from the pile, tossing it over him. Better safe than sorry. As he leaned over him to fix the covers, V turned over and brushed his arm over him, exhaling audibly. Nero moved V’s arm off of his hand and continued, paying him little mind. As he sat up to assess his work, V gripped his wrist weakly. Assuming that he was simply shifting in his sleep again, he sat up and moved to step away and towards the door. But as he tried to pull away, V’s grip tightened. Nero turned his attention from the door back to the bed and nearly jumped out of his skin in fright. A familiar set of green eyes was looking back up at him.

V was awake. And he looked absolutely wrecked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write that I had to stop here and immediately start working on the next chapter. They will only be a day apart, so don’t worry, I won’t keep you in suspense for very long! Again, thank you so much for your overwhelming support. Hopefully, this chapter wasn’t too slow for you. But the good news is that V is actually awake now, so you know what that means. DIALOGUE! See you guys on May 22nd for chapter Eight! Wow, I can’t believe we’re already on chapter eight...


	9. Chapter Eight: Realignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: This chapter is for Aureux on A03 for inspiring me with their comment and their awesome profile picture. Georgia O’Keeffe Squad for life! Thanks for the midnight inspiration. More like 4:50 am inspiration, but still. Same to you, He Who Wanders! And to Mallovarwen: I’ve noticed your lovely reviews! I get emails for them! I just can’t respond on FF.N for some reason. It’s truly odd. They just don’t show up! But I still enjoy reading them nonetheless! You’re great! Also, go check out BeansWithBones fics after you finish reading this chapter. She’s got some really original and unique stuff going on and you’ll probably love it. I know I did! The POV is just the coolest thing ever!
> 
> And a huge thank you to likethecatiam for pointing out that the Epilogue somehow got moved to the end of the fic. WTF?!

Chapter Eight: Realignment

Nero stared at him blankly for a moment as V let go of him and blinked wearily, his long eyelashes fluttering slowly as his eyes adjusted to the bright ceiling light. After a moment, he decided to try and sit up, immediately regretting it as a wave of vertigo hit him like a freight train. Nero reached out to try and steady him, catching him as he lurched forward. V closed his eyes and leaned into Nero, breathing heavily as he looked down towards the floor. The youngest Descendant of Sparda looked down at him, mystified by the situation he now found himself in. V wasn’t exactly the type of person to allow others to touch him. He must have been truly disoriented. 

After a minute or so, V attempted to push away from him, only to have the uncomfortable feeling return. He sighed and continued to look down, trying to force the nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach to subside. What on earth was wrong with him? Better yet, where was he? What was going on? His short term memory was more than a little bit foggy at the moment, but he hoped that would change soon. He was in no condition to deal with this and being incapacitate left him even more vulnerable than he normally felt. It was a feeling that he detested. The idea of being helpless frightened him more than any opponent that he could ever hope to face in battle.

For the third time in the same number of minutes, V attempted to lift his head. This time he succeeded, although he had to do so laboriously. Every centimeter felt like it took the passage of a full lifetime, his head an unliftable weight that he couldn’t circumvent. This wasn’t the first time that he had ever felt this way, but it was most certainly the worst. At present, he was simply trying not to throw up. That would certainly do him no favors.

After what felt like a lifetime, he finally lifted his head, his eyes heavy as he came face to face with… someone. His vision had been blurry ever since he had first made the mistake of opening his eyes, and this was no different. As he slowly blinked, he recoiled in discomfort as a familiar voice spoke to him.

“... Wow, V… you look like shit.” Nero said with more than a hint of concern tinting his voice. He hadn’t seen V look this bad since he had helped him through the Qliphoth after Malphas’s defeat. Although he wasn’t physically cracking this time (thankfully) he was notably pale, to the point that a few vanes in his face and neck were visible. You had to be close to see them -and he most certainly was- but they were still there. That was an event that he never wanted to relive. When V had tripped and fallen into his grasp, he was sure that he was going to drop dead then and there. And yet, here he was. He still looked dreadful, but he was alive, at least. That had to count for something. Nero scoffed to himself at the thought. Though he lacked the physical strength of basically everyone else in their family, his mental fortitude was immense.

It took a moment, but V seemed to register that he was being spoken to. The longer white-haired young man blinked heavily as if doing so would clear his vision, unable to truly make out any of his surroundings. In an unkind sort of irony, his hearing was hypersensitive, even the quietest of sounds grading on him and wearing at his mental resolve. To top it off, he felt relatively numb, his entire body unusually heavy. With the exception of his head, of course. He felt that way too well. To say that he was experiencing a sensory overload would be an understatement. And he was hating every single solitary second of it.

After a few deep breaths, he exhaled and blinked a final time, his eyes finally clearing enough for him to make out his surroundings. He was in an unfamiliar room with white walls and a bookshelf that was empty, save for several blankets that had been squeezed into the empty space. Two doors sat in front of him, one on the same wall as the bed that he had apparently just been sleeping in. The low droning hum of a ceiling fan could be heard above him, no doubt the source of the warm, bright light that flooded the room. But none of those things threw him for a loop in quite the same way as the sight before him. Much to his bemusement, Nero was down on one knee in front of him, using his left hand to steady him, his other arm being held by V in an attempt to steady himself. The younger demon hunter held him by the forearm, gently gripping him as if he thought that squeezing him any harder might dislocate V’s shoulder. And, to be honest, he probably wasn’t wrong. Nero was absolutely capable of doing something like that without really trying too hard.

V didn’t move as he stared back at him, confusion gripping him tightly. Was he seeing things? Where were they? What was going on? And why did he feel so awful? He searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall coming to… wherever this place was. Then again, he didn't’ remember very much aside from stumbling down a hallway towards Malphas’s lair after escaping her dreaded pocket dimension. After that, everything was relatively hard to decipher. There were flashes of later events, but no clarity. What he did know was what that he felt… lighter somehow. As if some sort of weight had left him that he couldn’t quite place. This was all very confusing to him, and that didn’t help his state of mind at all. And then a thought occurred to him, something clicking for the first time since he’d registered that he wasn’t alone in the room. Nero was trying to get his attention and he looked… concerned?

“... Nero…” V spoke with a sudden, harsh cough. His lungs didn’t seem to have the same amount of air in them that they once did,”... What… where are we?”

Nero sighed in relief. The other man had been looking at him for a few minutes now, but it seemed more like he was staring through him than at him. “Shit… for a second there I thought we’d fried part of your brain with that lighting bolt or something,” Nero joked, unable to shake the nervousness in his tone of voice,” You alright?”

V slowly released his grip on Nero’s arm, regaining the feeling in his fingers as he did so. It seemed that the feeling in his body returned to the parts he used. Regardless, he had no immediate plans to try and stand up. The sensation of falling face-first onto the floor was not one he was eager to revisit. “I… will be. Maybe. I’m… I’m actually not actually sure,” He confessed as he tried to process everything,”... Where are we? Is… is it over?”

V stole a few glances around the mostly empty room, taking in the quiet space he now found himself in. The clouds in his head were starting to dissipate, and he was now capable of conscious thought aside from whatever panicked thoughts his fight or flight reflex had conjured up. Nero let go of him slowly, noting that V watched him as he did so. To his perplexment, his handprint remained. The bright red indentation stood out harshly against V’s pale complexion, now so more than ever. After a moment, it darkened, indicating that it might develop into a light bruise. Apparently, V bruised easily. Nero wasn’t honestly too surprised to discover that.

Nero stood up and gestured towards the bed, nonverbally requesting permission to sit. V nodded sluggish, seemingly unbothered. As he joined him, he couldn’t help but note the irony in his actions. V had done the very same thing to him in his bedroom when they had first met not so long ago. He thought for a moment, processing his brother’s question. Magnolia hadn’t mentioned anything about acute memory loss from what he could recall. He decided to call her about that when he got the chance.

“You’re at my place in Fortuna. Thought you’d recognize it from that one time you broke in and scared the living shit out of me in the middle of the night,” Nero said lightheartedly, trying to break the uncomfortable air between them,” And yea, everything is over. It has been for a few weeks now.”

V squinted slightly as he took in Nero’s answer. A few weeks? Had he been asleep that long? Although he enjoyed the occasional cat-nap, that wasn’t like him at all. Had he been in comatose this entire time? From the brief flashes of memory that came and went through his subconscious, he was willing to believe that his injuries could have incapacitated him for that long. 

“... I’ve been asleep for several weeks? V asked in what Nero wasn’t sure was disbelief or confusion. He found him particularly hard to read. Vergil, he could at least get a rise out of if he pestered him enough. V was another story entirely. Although he seemed to be a bit more receptive in this particular instance, he was still a hard nut to crack. Even when his mental faculties weren’t all the way there (had they ever been?) He was still as pokerfaced as always. In a way, it was quite impressive.

Nero shrugged in discomfort. This didn’t seem to be a good time to remind him that he had basically died, but V wasn’t the type you could easily dissuade from getting the answer to a question. He sighed and leaned back on his arms, looking up at the ceiling for a moment to watch the ceiling fan spin idly before craning his head to the side to steal a glance at V. It was odd. He had never really registered the fact that V had such vibrant green eyes before. Maybe that came from his mother’s side of the gene pool? After all, no one else in their family possessed that particular trait. Maybe it was a recessive gene? Or maybe his bleach white hair just made his eye color stand out more. He couldn’t really say. Then again, he had never noticed his hair color either. But that was different. It had been dyed or something at the time.

Nero combed over the proper way in his mind to tell his brother that he had literally been reduced to ash, but couldn’t find a polite way to say it. The amount of anxiety it caused him to think about it was frankly, perplexing to him. He didn’t normally really give a shit. But something about this just made him uneasy. He exhaled the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding before resuming eye contact with him. There was no point in avoiding this conversation any longer. “You weren’t asleep… you were basically dead. We just got back from pulling your soul or something out of limbo or something a few minutes ago. During some conversation you had with Urizen, there was a huge blast and you kinda got atomized. Vergil said it had something to do with our souls transferring or something. Somehow that’s not the wildest thing he’s told me in the two days he’s been back from the Underworld, either… Um, V...”

The horrified, stunned look on V’s face could not be understated. He looked like he had just had the wind knocked out of him, discomfort clear in his posture. Everything he’d forgotten from the Redgrave City Incident suddenly came back with a vengeance, flabbergasting him. He slumped slightly towards the headboard, an unexpected desire to be further from everything around him suddenly overtaking him with such force that he couldn’t reconcile it himself despite the fact that he was experiencing it. Above all else, he felt the need to recoil and hide within himself. That had… not been the answer he was expecting.

His prior concerns returned as V began to breathe heavier than he had been a moment ago. While he wasn’t quite hyperventilating, he was clearly perturbed. He trembled slightly as Nero reached over and gripped his shoulder, barely fighting the involuntary urge to jerk away from the unexpected contact. He pulled the knitted blanket up over himself higher until the soft yarn brushed against the underside of his neck, the sensation snapping him out of the borderline panic attack that he felt creeping up the base of his spine. He glanced over at Nero, unsure of what to say or do for the first time in an immeasurably long time. He blinked away the burning sensation he felt in his eyes, unsure of why his pupils felt so irritated all of a sudden. With his free hand, he scratched his arm in discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he actually itched or not. He just felt the compulsion to do so.

Nero gripped his shoulder firmly, tugging at him slightly as if to shake him out of his current state. The longer he said nothing, the more uncomfortable and concerned he grew. Neither of them truly knew what to do in this situation, and it was dreadful. After a moment, V closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, his breath trembling as he did so. “... What else did he say?”

The youngest Descendant of Sparda cringed inwardly. He was now absolutely regretting saying that. V was just now calming down. He didn’t really want to push him any further than he already had. But, at the same time, it might be best to get all of the shock-inducing revelations out of the way at once. Fuck it. Why not?

“Well… Were apparently half brothers. I would have never guessed that looking at you, but I think I get it now,” Nero said as he gestured towards his brother’s hair. Their distinct white hair seemed to be a shared family trait.

V’s demeanor shifted again, this time taking a violent left into blatant befuddlement. For perhaps the first time ever, he went visibly wide-eyed, his entire body posture falling. Nero scoffed in surprise. It seemed that V’s unreadable demeanor could be shattered after all. He stared at Nero in a way that made his skin crawl, as if by doing so, he could glean some unknown information from him. After a moment, he nodded slowly, a distant look in his eyes that Nero couldn’t quite comprehend. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice betraying some unknown emotion.

“... I can see that,” He said knowingly, his train of thought clearly elsewhere,” After all, you do favor him quite heavily, and there is… something to you that I can’t quite put words to. It is a positive thing, to say the least, but still… there is something about you that makes me believe what he says is true.”

V looked away for a moment before speaking again, this time much quieter. “... And I would be lying to say that I am upset to hear this. I find you…” He stopped then, the words he wanted to say unwilling to pass through his lips. He had never been very adept at having intimate conversations with others. He most certainly wasn’t going to start with family.

The eldest of the two would probably never admit it, or perhaps he truly didn’t understand it, but he felt at ease around Nero. It was rare that someone simply took him at his word, and he did that readily without upset. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to in the slightest, but there was no denying the fact that he had come to find the younger man enjoyable to be around. Or at least tolerable compared to everyone else he knew. That was an incredibly short list to be sure, but still. It was substantial.

Nero’s demeanor softened slightly at the statement. He wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or unhappy about being reminded of how much he looked like their father, but V hadn’t taken the news as badly as he had taken the revelation of his untimely demise, so he was going to file this one away as a victory. Maybe, at some point, they could have a proper conversation about this. If there was one goal he had for their “relationship” it was to not develop the gigantic quagmire of unspoken misery and repressed emotions that Dante and Vergil had developed between them in the last few decades. Regardless of if either of them enjoyed doing so, they were going to actually talk about their issues like adults. Or, at the very least, handle things better than those two did. Then again, that wasn’t a very high standard to meet. They were both high functioning Neanderthals.

Just then, a soft knock bounced off of the bedroom door. A long red ponytail draped over the shoulder of none other than Kyrie as she peaked quietly into the room. Nero gestured for her to come in and she did so, closing the door behind her. As she turned to face Nero, she yelped in surprise as she dropped the small woven basket she was carrying in her arms to the floor. Nero reached for the basket, but she picked it up before he had the chance, brushing it off as she wrapped her arms around it. She turned to V with a warm, welcoming smile, a concerned look in her large brown eyes. 

“Oh! It’s so good to see you awake. You looked a little under the weather when Nero brought you in,” She said as she stepped forward, setting the basket down on the empty bedside table,” Sorry I couldn’t find anything else. I don’t know what size you wear. That, and the children are tripping all over me to meet you. I practically had to lock them in the coat closet to get away from them!” She giggled to herself at the ridiculous situation she had just found herself in. The children could be a handful at times, but they were funny.

V spared a glance in the direction of the basket and then returned his attention to her. He had no idea who this woman was, but she seemed to live here. Was this the woman Nero had mentioned before. Something that started with a C or a K that he couldn’t quite recall. Nero just looked at them both. While he could interject, this was more entertaining to watch. Why ruin a good thing.

As if she could read his mind, she hopped forward and extended her hand, eager to introduce herself. “Silly me, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Kyrie, Nero’s girlfriend. It’s wonderful to have you here. I hope the clothes and blankets I brought you are comfortable. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I’m here to help.”

Nero blushed slightly. She didn’t use that term very often. It was rare that they met people who didn’t already know them both. It gave him the warm and fuzzies inside, he couldn’t lie. Something akin to a slight smile crossed V’s face for a split second before he took her hand and kissed it gently, bowing respectfully as he released her tiny hand. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kyrie. You can call me V.”

Kyrie smiled brightly and blushed, clearly flattered. Even in a town this oppressively religious, V’s old fashioned mannerisms stood out. Nero shot him a bewildered look that his brother returned, a questioning look of confusion crossing V’s face. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had done to offend him. V then leaned forward to pick up the basket, earning him startled shouts from Nero as Kyrie covered her eyes to spare herself the potential mental scarring she might induce by not doing so. V stared at them both for a moment before a perplexed look crossed his face. He then lifted the blanket, a few shaded of color returning to his pale complexion. He dropped the covers back onto his lap abruptly, scrambling to grab literally the first thing he could get his hand on in the basket. As it turned out, It was a pine green t-shirt. He immediately put it on before the obvious fact that it wasn’t going to cover the part of his body he was trying to hide occurred to him, earning him a self-deprecating groan. Sometimes he hated himself.

Just then, the door opened again and a small curly head peaked into the room. Kyrie immediately shooed away the curious child before going out the door after him, shouting something over her shoulder about coming back to check on V soon. Nero decided to join her if only to give V a moment of privacy. Keeping Kyle, Carlo, and Julios’ curious eyes away from the door was going to take more than just Kyrie alone. They were crafty little devils, after all. As he slipped out of the door, V stopped him. Clearly, he had something to say.

“... Nero… thank you.”

Nero allowed himself a small smile that V couldn’t see from his current sitting position. It had probably taken quite a bit for him to say that, and Nero knew that. He peeped at him from behind the door as he stepped out, trying not to let one of the children in as he did so. “Don’t worry about it, V. Put something on. Were not going anywhere.”

With that, the door clicked shut and V was left alone with his thoughts for the first time since he’d woken up. In a rare occurrence that he would only dare entertain when alone, he genuinely smiled to himself. No. No, they were not going anywhere. And for the time being, apparently, neither was he. For the first time in maybe his entire life, he felt welcome somewhere. And he was going to relish that. But first, he was going to put on some clothes. It was drafty in here and it was starting to become uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got to use “flabbergasting”, “gleaned”, and “befuddlement” in a sentence! My mom would be so proud of me… If I was ever deranged enough to let her know that I’m writing this. She’d be unironically horrified, but I don’t think she’d be surprised. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Thanks for reading this chapter and for all the great conversations I’ve had with you this week! I’ll see you all again on the 27th of May with chapter nine. Wow. I can’t believe I’ve written nine chapters in one month. I haven’t done that since high school back when I struggled to write a thousand words per chapter and my descriptive abilities were non-existent. I have no words. Funny how much better I got at writing after I left school lol. Talk to you guys soon!


	10. Chapter Nine: Tranquility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I had such a good laugh reading the comments for the last chapter! SkylarMorgan1899, HunterJamie, Mallovarwen, He Who Wanders, and Aureux all made wonderful points and observations, and I can’t wait until we reach the point in the story where we start to cover the topics you mentioned. Don’t worry everyone, it’s only going to get better from here! Thanks for checking out the story.

Chapter Nine: Tranquility

Vergil watched the van pull off and head down the street with a note of finality to his posture. Although they had succeeded in revitalizing V, there was still much to do, and the eldest Son of Sparda couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Though he would never show it outwardly, something about this situation did not sit well with him. Despite the fact that he had very little prior experience to go on, he was confident that he could trust Nero to keep a close eye on his eldest son. And yet, there was still apprehension. But was it directed at Nero or some unknown source of anxiety? His lack of control over the situation wasn’t something he was used to, but this was something distinctly different that added to his misgivings.

He couldn’t understand how he knew it, but something was going to happen soon.

And he had no idea what to do about it. That unnerved him more than anything.

Relinquishing control over a situation was not something that Vergil was accustomed to, and this was not the environment that he would prefer to learn in, but he had no choice. His son had made a valid point when he had pointed out that they could not bring V here in his current state. He was vulnerable, and being in a building that was practically a hub for supernatural entities wasn’t a very good idea. But to have them both so far from reach should his premonitions prove true? It wasn’t ideal in the slightest.

Dante flung open the front doors of the office and headed over to his desk. As he plopped down into his trusty chair, his older twin entered the building and closed the door behind himself. The Youngest Son of Sparda used his thumb to gesture towards the door that led to the back area of the office. 

“Pretty sure I forgot to mention that the bathroom is back there. It’s across from the spare room,” Dante paused at the statement, something evidently occurring to him. A slight smirk crossed his face for a second before he continued,” Well, it was the spare room. Guess it’s yours now. Mine’s upstairs. The kitchen is around where Nero went earlier.”

Dante tilted his head in the direction Nero had gone the day before and watched Vergil’s gaze cross silently between the door and the kitchen’s general area. He then nodded slightly and approached the backroom door. After pausing for a moment, he opened it and disappeared behind it without a word. The action wasn’t aggressive or born of malcontent, and as such there was no agitation or ill will behind it. Simply silence. The younger twin kicked his feet up onto the desk as he heard a second door open and close. He hadn’t done so very loudly. It was simply a case of unreasonably good hearing on Dante’s part.

After a few minutes of total silence apart from the negligible noise made by the ceiling fans, Dante began to doze off. Just as he was passing over the cusp of consciousness, it suddenly occurred to him that it had been entirely too quiet for far too long. He pulled his legs down from the desk and stood up, uneager to find out what his identical twin was up to. He approached the backroom door and opened it to find the adjacent bathroom door closed. Across from it was the door to the bedroom on this floor, and it was slightly cracked open. Unless Vergil had slipped out of the window at the end of the hallway (which was unlikely since there were blinds attached to it), Dante was willing to guess he had gone into the bedroom.

The Youngest Son of Sparda leaned forward and pushed on the door, not considering the fact that he should have probably knocked until the door was a third of the way open. When his brother didn’t throw Yamato through the door and impale him, Dante decided to test the waters and see just how far his luck would hold. He craned his neck over to one side and peeped into the room, curious to see what Vergil could be up to that had held his normally barely contained wrath at bay for this long.

For the most part, the space was furnished very basically. A standing wardrobe sat in one corner, and a matching bed with two accompanying bedside tables spanned the space in the middle of the grey painted room. Black linen covered the bed and the somewhat dusty blinds that covered the only window in the room were closed, lending the medium-sized space a rather dark atmosphere. As his eyes settled upon the relatively dark space, Dante stopped, surprised by the sight he found before him.

Laying in the middle of the bed was Vergil.

And he was very clearly fast asleep.

It honestly hadn’t occurred to Dante before that his brother might be tired. After all, the two of them hadn’t lived together since they were children, and the eldest of Sparda’s two sons had never been one to let his mental or physical state of mind slip through the cracks. Vergil had been awake every moment since his restoration, and that had been quite a while now. At least the better part of four days. And unlike Dante, he had never sat down and allowed himself to rest. It was as if he avoided sleeping on purpose...

Dante shook his head and backed out of the room, deciding that returning to his office was probably the best course of action he could take at the moment. He could use a nap himself. He carefully eased the door closed and ventured back down the hallway, flopping back into his favorite chair. His legs returned to their natural state on his desk and he picked up a magazine to read. He had no doubt that he would be joining Vergil shortly.

-~-

Like most living beings, V had done his fair share of things that he had come to regret later on. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, after all, and that was simply how things were. But V was now absolutely cursing his brain for its lack of functional cognitive capacity at this particularly given interval.

Not very long after Nero and Kyrie had left the room, V had gotten dressed in the spare clothes that she had brought him and he had decided to get up and explore the house. This was a decision that was complicated slightly by the fact that his head felt like it was underwater, his eyes seemed to be photosensitive, and he had barely any feeling in his body at all as of present, especially his legs. He had taken a few blind, careful steps towards the door to his bedroom, only to find that he grew progressively weaker with every step he took at an alarming rate. It had presumably taken the very last of his startlingly low energy reserves for him to stand up straight against nothing and open the door towards himself to try and step out into the foyer, because the second he did so he felt unmistakably faint. And that had been the last coherent sensation he had experienced before he careened towards the floor.

With seemingly perfect timing, Nero had come past him and managed to grab him mere moments before he would have otherwise collapsed and more than likely bashed his head against the entryway pavers. The youngest descendant of Sparda braced him against himself to keep him from falling almost lifelessly onto the ground before trying to rouse him and making no progress. Nero shook his head and knelt down further so that he could get a better grip on V before carefully lifting him and throwing him over his shoulder. He then stood up with him and reopened the door to the guest room, entering with the intention of putting him back where he belonged. As soon as he was safely back in the bed, Nero left the room and headed for the phone that hung on the wall between the kitchen and the entryway. He removed the small semi-gloss piece of paper that Magnolia had given him from his pocket and examined it carefully, gleaning everything he could from it and storing it away in his mind for later. He then dialed the number on the note and waited. After two rings or, the line picked up.

“Hello! This is Magnolia’s Aromatics and Herbalists. You seem to be calling from my personal line instead of the store line, so I assume I gave you my card?”

Nero nodded to himself. Duly noted. He needed a second line like this. Having one number made his life a bit more difficult than it probably needed to be, and that was a sentiment that he knew Dante shared due to Patty’s insistent phone calls alone. He should bring that up to him at a later date. “Hey, it’s Nero. I just had a couple of questions about-”

“Oh! Hello dear! Wonderful to hear from you,” She interjected cheerfully, not quite letting him finish, but unaware of her mistake,” Is this about your brother, then?”

“Yea it is,” He confirmed, absent-mindedly glancing back at the bedroom door,” All the stuff you said he might go through happened, and then some. I’m pretty sure he fainted when he tried to get up and walk around. And his memory seems a little patchy in a couple of places. Is that normal?”

She paused for a moment as if taking in his words before answering again. “Yes, that does tend to happen. Anything he has forgotten should return gradually along with his powers and the like. What did he forget specifically? Did he say?”

Nero considered his next question carefully before turning his attention back to the phone. He probably needed to go and check on V again before he woke up and tried to come looking for them. That hadn’t gone very well the last time. “He forgot how he died and some of the stuff right before it, I think. Also, I don’t think he really has powers like that. He was using these demon summons things and he had, like, these magic tattoos or something. But I’ve never seen him use any other kind of powers. I don’t know, I could be wrong. I don’t know how most of this kinda shit works. I just kill demons.”

Magnolia stayed silent for a long moment as she took in what Nero had just told her. Nero stared at the phone quietly, becoming more uneasy as the time passed. After a full minute of silence, he started to wonder if they had become disconnected. “Hey, are you still there?

After a brief pause, she answered. “Oh! Sorry about that. You just took me off guard, is all. You said he possessed summons that were linked to him via tattoos and that you’ve never seen him exhibit any signs of possessing demonic powers?” She seemed taken aback by the statement as if it were totally unheard of.

Nero couldn’t help but notice her change in demeanor. Had he said something he shouldn’t have? “Yea, he had two or three of them… that not good?”

She took a moment to think about what to say on the other end of the line. Nero could practically feel her thinking of a nice way to say that yes, it absolutely probably was bad. “Well, it depends entirely upon the strength of the summoner, the power of the demons, and what they require in return for their assistance,” She said in an almost matter of fact way,” Most demons require the soul of their host to form a contract, but that clearly wasn’t the case in this instance.”

The young man with the short white hair clenched his brow slightly at the statement. How did she-

“If a soul is claimed by a demon, then it goes to that demon the instant that they die. My spell wouldn’t have worked Regardless,” She said, seemingly noting that she hadn’t elaborated on that facet of her analysis,” I’m actually quite impressed. If he did maintain three demons, then he is quite strong, powers or not. Although I will have to look into the status of his abilities. A descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda with no demonic power seems entirely impossible, especially if he’s your older brother. It’s extraordinarily uncommon. Perhaps his inborn gifts are simply… dormant.”

Nero nodded to himself. That made practical sense to him. But then how had V gotten demons that tough to safeguard him? In his experience, demons didn’t normally just go along with the requests of those they deemed weaker than them, especially those of mixed blood. They were much quicker to just try and bash your skull in. Another question for another time, then. That list was growing.

“Ok, well, I’m gonna go check on him. I’ll let you know if anything happens,” Nero said as he looked towards V’s door. He could have sworn he heard something…  
“Good idea. Make sure he gets plenty of rest. Food and water would be a good idea as well, although I’m not optimistic about him being able to actually keep food down,” She said reassuringly,” Don’t worry yourself sick over him. I have a good feeling about him. We can speak on this again later on when he’s in better shape. Goodbye!”

Nero thanked her and excused himself before hanging up the phone. As soon as the phone was back on the receiver, Nero headed back over to the guest room door. As he inched the door open, he caught sight of V. The longer white-haired man was still partially lying in the bed, his head and upper torso against the wall. He was breathing slightly heavy and his hair was stuck to his face with sweat. Although he seemed to be awake, his eyes were closed and he was shivering slightly. It wasn’t very hard for Nero to make the educated guess that he was probably clammy and feeling very sick. After all, due to the thunderstorm that was rolling in from the mainland, the temperature on Fortuna island was actually quite frigid, all things considered. There was no reason that he should be sweating.

There was no need for further examination. He was just going to bring V something to drink and start there. Last he had checked, most people weren’t allergic to water, sick or not. Nero went into the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water out of the picture in the fridge. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for an hour or two and there was no leftover lasagna to offer him thanks to Dante and Vergil having been there to help eat it the night before, so Nero opted to just start with the water.

He opened the door slowly to find that not much had changed since he’d stepped away a moment ago. V had opened his eyes at the very least, so Nero was sure he was awake (unless he slept with his eyes open…) and he was shivering much less. Nero walked over to him and sat the glass down on the bedside table. He took a seat next to him on the side of the bed, taking a mental note of the fact that V seemed to be watching him without moving. Nero then gestured towards the glass of water.

“The woman that helped us bring you back says you should drink that and get some rest,” Nero said as he touched the back of his hand to V’s limp arm, the uninvited contact causing him to shiver,” I’m pretty sure you have a fever or something. You're kinda clammy…”

V shifted slightly and reached for the glass, giving Nero an almost appreciative glance. He carefully lifted the glass and took a sip before pausing for a moment. He then scarfed the cold liquid down quickly, clearly more thirsty than he had previously imagined. Nero watched and scoffed to himself. “Hey, um, are you trying to make yourself sicker than you already are?”

V placed the glass back onto the bedside table and allowed himself to sink into the wall. Exhaustion was clearly evident in his posture. After a moment, a look akin to nausea settled across his face and he closed his eyes in the hopes that this would somehow cause his discomfort to subside. After several moments of heavy, uncomfortably ragged breathing, he exhaled and slowly reopened his eyes. He met Nero’s gaze, the younger of the two clearly taken aback by his brother’s rapid and violent fluctuation in health. After a moment, V sighed and closed his eyes. He was now much more stable than he had been a few moments prior. 

“...I don’t think I have ever been that thirsty in my entire life.” He said in an almost astounded tone of voice.

Nero shook his head and shrugged, trying subconsciously to shake off his discomfort. Magnolia had told him that this would pass, so he was just going to have to go with that. “I can’t imagine you have. You just drank that glass of water in a couple seconds flat.”

V nodded quietly as though he were confirming something to himself. He slowly pushed off the wall he had been propped up against and came to a sitting position, not falling forward dizzily like he had the first time he had tried to do that. The familiar look of deep thought that Nero had become so accustomed to settled back into its proper place on V’s face as he seemed to ponder something quietly to himself. The cursory action of parting his lips had just begun when his gaze left Nero and traveled to something behind him. Nero glanced over his shoulder to find Carlo standing in the doorway, his small body partially obscured by the door. His little face bore the unmistakable look of a small child who had just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

It took actual effort for Nero not to snicker at the startled look on his adopted child’s face. He could only imagine that Kyrie had told him not to come in here, but the adventurous child simply couldn’t help himself. He shifted uncomfortably back and forth for a moment, his eyes moving from Nero to V. A look of confusion and intrigue crossed his face as V craned his head to one side to get a better look at the small child. Nero called over to him and gestured for him to come into the room and he did so, using both of his hands to push the door closed behind himself.

Nero scooped the small child up and sat him between himself and V. The green-eyed man gave the curly-haired little boy a curious look before the child spoke loud and clear. “Hello! I’m Carlo. Do you live here now, too? Your new.”

V was genuinely amused by the forward way that the child had introduced himself to him, if you could call his question an introduction. He nodded very slowly, trying not to aggravate his barely contained nausea and vertigo. “I’m V. Wonderful to meet you, Carlo.” 

The tiny child smiled brightly as Nero sat him down and pointed him in the direction of the front door. He hurried off, running out of the door as fast as his tiny little legs would carry him saying something about Kyrie need his help with dinner as he went. Nero nodded to himself as he stood up and grabbed the cup off of the bedside table before heading to the door. As he opened it, he turned back to V, shooting him a playful but serious look. “I’ll bring you some more water after I check-in with Kyrie. You keep your skinny ass in the bed and go back to sleep. I don’t want to catch you falling half-dead into the front hall again.”

Before V could respond to that statement, he closed the door and left. He needed to find out what Kyrie needed. V then leaned back against the wall again and closed his eyes. He would rest a moment until Nero returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, I am so so sorry that this is as late as it is! I meant to have this up forever ago, but I was simply exhausted and didn’t get to it in time. I’m going to bed and I’ll be immediately working on the next chapter. Sorry if this one is 300 or so words shorter than my average chapters. I think quarantine is getting to me or something because I’m so sleepy most of the time now. Again, thank you for reading, and I can’t wait to see you in the next chapter on Friday. AND IT WILL BE ON TIME! Sorry for any errors. I was tired when I was editing this.


	11. Chapter Ten: Amalgamation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I genuinely can’t believe we’ve made it to chapter ten. It’s been nearly six years since I’ve written a fic this long, and the number of people who consistently come back twice every week to read what I’ve been working on is genuinely astonishing. Somehow after several years of no ideas and a dwindling interest in creating new content, we’ve arrived at 40k words and 1k readers! I can’t believe that we’re here. I’d like to thank HunterJamie, RubixaSeraph, SkylarMorgan1899, and Mallovarwen for commenting again with very enjoyable and helpful feedback, and thank first-time commentator Random Reader nothing special for their wonderful comment. It really warmed my heart. Thank you to everyone for their patience with my late releases this week. I’ve just been terrible at getting things done lately. Now, on to the chapter!

Chapter Ten: Amalgamation

By all accounts, this was going to be the worst storm to hit the region in their current lifetime. The spokesperson on the portable radio that sat in the living room spoke of pitch-black clouds that hummed with dangerously high amounts of energy, abnormally large and concerningly frequent lightning strikes that almost seemed to be aiming towards objects on the planet’s surface, and torrential rains carried by winds just over fifty miles per hour. The streets had turned into rivers and the rivers were bursting at the seams while intermittent power failures plagued every building for miles to come. Reports of fires and car accidents came pouring into the station in droves as meteorologists combed through every piece of data they had, trying to form some sort of hypnosis as to where this freak act of nature had suddenly come from. Their analysis of the weather that day had been completely different. The prognosis was mass hysteria and paranoia across the board. And that was before the possibility of demons had been brought into the picture.

If this had been just a few months before the Redgrave City Disaster, the general public would have been quick to dismiss the notion that something supernatural might be going on, but things had decidedly taken a turn for the worst since then. People jumped at shadows, fearing and feeling the presence of denizens of oblivion at every turn. There was a fanatical talk show host at the end over every dial turn, and twice as many made for TV religious figureheads peddling disaster and armageddon into the open ears and closed minds of their eager listeners. The atmosphere was ripe with dread and superstition, and that was to say nothing about the rumors going around about some shadowy cabal that seemed to be investigating things around town, making a consorted effort to get the locals of the town of Enamel to divulge anything they knew about something dubious that most of the citizens couldn’t make sense of. Reports were scarce and inconsistent as to what this shadowy group wanted, but records of them were coming in from every corner of the region. It was unclear if they should be considered a threat to the general public since they had yet to harm anyone, but authorities were advising people to exercise caution.

Nero stepped into the room and found Kyrie listening to the broadcast, her normally serene demeanor showing slight signs of worry. He leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around her, eliciting a startled sound and an embarrassed smile from the young brunette woman. She gripped his hands for a moment, hugging his arm gently with the side of her face as closing her eyes and let out a melancholy sigh. The young devil hunter couldn’t help but notice her change in demeanor.

“You shouldn’t listen to that, Kyrie. It’s just going to make you worry.” Nero said using the top of his head to nuzzle her hair. He didn’t like to see her like this, as infrequent as it may be.

The normally chipper woman pulled away timidly and stood up, glancing in the direction of the stairs. The children were in their bedroom playing at the moment and she was glad for it. Not so much because she didn’t want to keep up with them (although she did need a break if she was being honest) but because she didn’t need them hearing this. After all the things that they had been through in their short lives; surviving the Savior incident, being displaced and rehomed, and then nearly losing Nero such a short while ago, the last thing she wanted to do was frighten them again.

“Your right, I should probably turn that off,” She said as she turned her attention to the hallway, her eyes seemingly fixated on something behind her domestic partner,” There isn’t anything I can do about the weather, and the power keeps going in and out anyway. I should save the battery in case there’s an emergency. it’s just… all this talk about a cult... ”

Nero put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close, understanding now why she seemed so disconcerted. They had all lost so much during the attack a few years back. She didn’t need to explain to him why she would be worried about something like that. After all, it seemed like most residents of Fortuna were questioning key facets of their lives these days. The formerly devout community didn't show up to prayer as often as they once did if they showed up at all. Their faith had been totally and undeniably undermined. There were open debates about the merits and legitimacy of the Order of the Sword and its actions everywhere they went and no small number of turned heads whenever Nero or any other member of the Holy Knights went. It seemed that the entire city was united in shame and grief.

“Hey… don’t worry about it. You know I’m not going to let anything happen to any of you…” Nero hugged her and released her, allowing her to regain her.

Kyrie fixed her clothing and hair, taking a deep breath before exhaling and shaking herself as if doing so would somehow snap her out of her current state. She sighed and nodded, turning her head in the direction of the staircase again. The children had suddenly gotten significantly louder. After a moment, she stepped towards the stairs, turning back towards him as she went. 

“Thank you, Nero… I… I don’t want you to worry. I know,” She smiled tenderly as she headed up the stairs, pointing at something behind him,” I’ll go check on the children. I think someone wants to talk to you.

With that, she disappeared up the stairs. Nero’s brow furrowed in perplexment as he turned around to see that V was in the room with him. Wrapped in the grey blanket that Kyrie had left him and leaning against the doorway to the room for support, he now looked more alert and healthy than he just had an hour or so ago. He had presumably heard and seen their entire conversation, but had chosen not to interject. Nero looked at him quietly for a moment before turning and going to sit on the couch. 

He flopped down on the soft cushion and exhaled audibly, not sure how he felt at the moment. Although he hadn’t come to any sort of conclusion regarding this mysterious group that had been plaguing the area, he was willing to entertain the idea that something weird was going on. The odds of this otherworldly inclement weather starting the very same day that they brought V back from the great beyond was far too covenant to be a coincidence. True, it had been a foggy day, but the storm had started to roll in mere minutes after his resurrection and had intensified about a half-hour after they made port. And the intensity of the storm was questionable as well. It just seemed… aggressive, as though it served some other purpose and they were just missing something.

As Nero sat thinking, V approached the window nearest to him. It looked out over the street and down the block, showing a wonderful view of the distant shoreline during more ideal weather. He slowly walked over to it, staying decidedly close to the wall despite the fact that there was plenty of room for him to walk. When he reached his destination, he leaned back against the wall and pulled the mostly sheer curtains aside to get a better view of the outside world. He gazed outside quietly, half-turned away from Nero. Despite the deafening boom of thunder and the blistering speeds the wind was traveling at as it rattled the building slightly, V still found the sight of rain dripping off the overhead exterior window seal and then running down the window soothing.

“... Something isn’t right,” V said, not so much asking as he was stating a fact,” This storm is… unnatural, to say the least.”

Nero nodded two or three times as V turned to face him slightly more than he had been before. The taller man was most certainly fairing better now that Nero got a better look at him. He looked less pale now and closer to his normal skin tone, which was admittedly still pretty pale, and his balance seemed to be more steady. The shivering and clamminess that had plagued him seemed to be gone, and he was coherent.

“Yea, I kinda guessed that,” Nero said with a sarcastic tinge to his voice,” It started right after we brought you back. How’d you guess that something was going on?”

V turned his attention away from the window and turned to look at his brother again. He stepped forward and slid between the armchair and the side table that sat across from the couch and came to a stop in front of the couch. After taking a moment to regain his balance, he sat down on the other end of the couch and turned his attention back to his younger brother. “I can’t say. It’s just something I know.”

It was a sentiment they both shared for the same reasons, but there wasn’t a coherent explanation as to why this was between the two of them. The younger of the two deduced that maybe this was somehow connected to the spell they had performed earlier that day, but he couldn’t be sure. He was willing to believe that Magnolia was far more knowledgeable about these sorts of things than he was. Hell, everyone in his family probably knew more about this than he did. All this talk of realms of reality, contracts, and familiars went right over his head, despite the fact that he was not opposed to learning about any of it.

In an attempt to break the now marginally uncomfortable silence that was forming between them, Nero stood up and walked over to the fireplace across from the couch. He lit the gas fire, relishing in the fact that their home had one and that it wasn’t wood burning considering the age of the place. The cozy warmth started to spread throughout the available space in the room as Nero sat back down on the couch and stretched his arms out, trying to make himself more comfortable and seem more amicable. V wrapped himself in the blanket and curled up into the corner of the couch, giving a casual glance toward the window before shifting his focus towards the warm fire. Anyone with eyes could see that he felt more comfortable now that it was on.

“You turned on the fireplace,” V said casually as he adjusted himself under the blanket in order to be closer to the inviting warmth produced by the flickering flame. Nero nodded, taking a moment to realize that the very obvious statement was more of a question than anything else.

“Yea, well you were under a blanket so I figured…” Nero trailed off, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. He was just now realizing that he hadn’t quite reached the stage with V where he felt comfortable explaining things like this, and he didn’t know for the life of him why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable. There was just something about V that unnerved him and made him unable to communicate the most basic things. He had never worked well with quiet people, but this was something else entirely. Hopefully, he would get better at communicating with him as time passed.

V looked at him thoughtfully, that devilish smirk that Nero was all too familiar with making an appearance for the first time since V’s untimely death. Nero gave him an incredulous look, unsure of what to do or say about his reaction. He wasn’t entirely sure why he looked so pleased with himself and that somehow made him even more uncomfortable.

Several sets of footsteps could be heard from behind them as they both turned to see Kyrie descending the stairs with the children in tow. She was carrying the once that V recognized; the littlest child named Carlo who had introduced himself earlier that day. But the other two boys who looked like they were probably biologically related to one another were unfamiliar to him, and he to them. Upon seeing him, the tallest child stopped and yanked the middle child to a stop, pointing at him with an excited look on his face. As Kyrie sat Carlo down in one of the living room chairs, the other children filed into the living room, their giant excited eyes fixed on V.

Nero stood up to go help Kyrie in the kitchen. Just as he did, the tallest child tugged on his shirt and pointed at V. “Hey, who’s that,” He inquired with interest and excitement evident in his voice,” You both have that cool white hair! Are you family?”

For reasons that he couldn’t quite place, his entire brain snagged like a rusted clock gear with a rope stuck in it at that question. Yes. Obviously, that was the answer. But for some unknown reason, he just couldn’t make that come out of his mouth. Maybe he just hadn’t truly grasped that concept yet. It was an irrefutable fact by this point, but somehow he just still couldn’t believe it in a way.

After a moment, Nero reached down and fluffed the inquisitive child’s head, nodding to him. “Yea. Were related.”

Before the wide-eyed child could ask him to elaborate, V chimed in from his comfortable position on the couch under his blanket by the fire. “It would appear that I’m his older brother.”

The little child giggled as Nero stared at V in surprise. He wasn’t expecting him to pick up on his burgeoning mental breakdown and come to his rescue. The middle child groaned, shaking his head. “Julio is my older brother! So you're both bigger than me!”

Julio placed his hands up to the sides of his head and wiggled them, taunting his little brother playfully. “Yea! Kyle and Carlo are my little brothers! I’m almost seven!”

V nodded quietly, honestly mildly entertained by the children’s antics. There was something about watching them tease and poke fun at one another that he found genuinely humorous. While his brothers terrorized each other, Carlo climbed down out of his seat and up onto the couch, sitting down surprisingly close to V. Considering the fact that he was around three, it wasn’t too shocking that he hadn’t figured out the concept of personal space yet. But that didn’t stop V from scooting back slightly to give himself more room, pulling his legs into himself closer. The little child didn’t take the hint and instead opted to climb over his legs and plop himself square in V’s lap, wrapping his arms as far around him as they would go to give him a hug.

“I love you, Nero’s brother! You're nice.” He giggled as he continued to squeeze, not really managing to do anything impactful to V’s ability to breathe. Well, at least not with his arms.

The taller man with the white hair stared at him, his eyes considerably wider than they normally were. V pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, his breath catching in absolute shock. The tiny child’s head was buried in his shirt, so he couldn’t see the look of absolute disbelief on the object of his affections face. No, he hadn’t just heard that. There was no way. He must’ve misheard him. After all, Carlo had just met him! But he had. And he was the first person to say that to him in… well…

… Oh... 

Kyrie was in the dining room placing down the plates, so she couldn’t see what had transpired, but Nero did. And for the first time ever, he could actually tell what V was thinking because it was written all over his face. He’d never seen him look so startled in the entire time he knew him, but that wasn’t the only thing. He seemed… Almost hurt by the comment, clearly indicating that it had some sort of profound effect on him. And despite the fact that he didn’t know even the slightest thing about V’s personal life (if he even had one) he had an idea why the child’s words might have affected him so deeply. He’s had a rough time growing up. Little things like that meant the world, especially when the person saying them truly meant them. And Carlo wasn’t lying. He wouldn’t lie about something like that.

V sat up and wrapped his left arm around him gently, giving him a careful squeeze before letting him go and hesitantly running his fingers through his hair. He rested his head atop of Carlo’s head for a moment, giving him one last gentle squeeze, eliciting a giggle from the little boy before releasing him. He gave him a thoughtful but melancholy look before accompanying it with one last head pat. He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself. Reciprocating affection wasn’t something he had much experience with.

“... Thank you, Carlo...” V swallowed, trying to repress the emotions he refused to let speak for him,” That is very… kind of you.”

Carlo may have not picked up on V’s tone, but Nero had. The little boy had struck a nerve of some sort, and Nero was genuinely concerned as to how dark of a turn V’s emotional state had taken. He seemed deeply troubled by the comment.

As Carlo hopped down from his lap and ran into the dining room after his brothers, V sat breathlessly on the couch, clearly trying to compose himself. He ran his hands down his face and formed a cup, covering his face up to his nose with them. He leaned forward on his knees, shuttering slightly, and exhaled a shaky breath. Nero watched him quietly, unsure of what to do or say. He took a step forward and put his hand on the back of the couch, acutely aware that touching him right now might not go over the way he intended. V stole a glance at him, silently acknowledging his gesture but now speaking or moving.

“... V…” Nero said quietly as if speaking loudly would do him some form of harm,” You okay?”

He didn’t answer, at least verbally. He looked at him quietly and lowered his hands, exhaling and blinking rapidly as if he had something caught in his eye. After a moment, he nodded once and glanced in the direction of the entryway. Kyrie stood there with a curious look on her face but didn’t ask, clueing into the cat that this might not be a good time. “... I just wanted to say that dinner is ready,” she said as she looked at V, smiling sympathetically despite having no idea what had reduced him to this state,” I made extra in case you were hungry. Feel free to join us.”

She stepped back into the kitchen when she finished speaking. Nero turned back to V and inched his hand just close enough to where his fingertips touched the back of his shoulder but he didn’t grab him. He seemed to have composed himself for the most part. Nero leaned over to get a better look at him and they made eye contact. V shrugged away, uncomfortable. He wasn’t fond of direct eye contact any more than he was of them staring at him.

Nero glanced in the direction of the dining room and then back to his brother, now more settled on what he wanted to say. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have an extra chair around her. You wanna come with me?”

V looked over at him, a thoughtful look on his face. A light smirk that didn’t reach his eyes spread across his face and he nodded. “Yes. I think I would like that.”

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so beyond done with myself over how late this chapter is. Like, I’m actually angry. But at least I got the chapters for next week done early so that I don’t have to worry about this happening again. So sorry guys. I suck, but I hope the chapter was good, at least! I’d love to hear your comments. I’ve updated the master list on Tumblr since it seems I’ll be having plenty more time to write due to the pandemic.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Rumination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: As per usual, I want to extend a warm thank you to Aureux, HunterJamie, BeansWithBones, RubixaSeraph, Random Reader Nothing Special, and He Who Wanters for their wonderful comments. I smiled like an idiot when I was reading your feedback. In fact, I wasn’t originally planning on writing out this part of the story, but I was so happy that I did. This intermission dinner chapter is for you guys! Enjoy it before things… change a bit. Thank you once again for your continued support. Means the world to me!

Chapter Eleven: Rumination

A bay window that spanned the entire outward-facing wall that overlooked the street below was all that separated the cozy dining room from the raging torrent of stormwater just outside the stone rowhouse. As the windows whipped and churned outside, the interior remained dry, even as the window rattled slightly in an earnest effort to not open in response to the prodding storm that it held at bay. The well-built structure served its purpose gallantly, those that dwelled within its walls not needing to worry if their home was going to come crashing down on top of them at any moment. And considering the fact that it was now time for dinner, that was a welcome relief.

In the center of the room sat an oblong table with seven chairs around it. Although generously sized, the eating space had originally been designed with six people in mind. This was clearly illustrated by the presence of the seventh chair at the table. Although it matched relatively well (I mean, what doesn’t match a white table?) The seat clearly originated from an alternate source; the custom stitched patchwork cushions in each seat being the only thing that tied everything together. And it was all very charming in a rather arts and crafts farmhouse sort of way. 

Various eating apparatuses were carefully positioned around the table, the placements having been set by the children while Kyrie was busy importing food front the kitchen into the eating space. As a result, several things on the table were crooked, but no one honestly minded. The little ones had tried their best, and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

While Kyle, Carlo, and Julio clambered into their seats, their adoptive mother opened the curtains to allow what meager light there was outside to shine into the room. While the space was not claustrophobic, at this given moment in time, it was a bit crowded. Four adults and three young children made for quite the dining experience, especially when everyone present was so vastly different than everyone else. Or, at least they were at first glance. It was true that their personalities were quite different, but they were all united by common goals and the care that they showed for one another. Even when that care was thrown for a loop as the children bickered with one another, causing a bit of a ruckus before Kyrie shushed them gently. They had a guest, after all. This was no time to be rowdy. 

“Now now,” She said with a happy but stern tone,” were at the table. No fighting.”

Just as Kyrie was in the process of setting down the ceramic bowls she had ladled hot soup into, Nero emerged from the living room with V in tow. A moment later, Nico joined them. She came down from the second floor of the house and slipped into the dining room, eager to experience whatever culinary delights Kyrie had prepared for them today. To say that she was a wonderful cook would be an understatement, and Nico was not a picky eater. She would eat just about anything that the brunette woman put in a plate in front of her, as long as she had cooked it.

Nico sat down between the two oldest boys, prepared to pester them senseless if the need should arise. V, almost predictably, sat nearest to the corner of the room, his back facing the doorway as if he were poised to take flight should the need arise. This entire situation was entirely foreign to him. In his entire life, he had never been invited to or subsequently experienced a family dinner. That was most certainly due to the fact that he hadn’t any family to speak of until now. In the blink of an eye, he had died, returned from the brink of damnation, and then awakened as if it were all an unpleasant dream, only to find out that he had quite the extended family. It was all a bit much to take in all at once, but he was trying. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he longed for Griffon’s familiar -if not antagonizing- voice within the confines of his mind. He had grown used to the wisecracking bird’s little jabs and jests, as they had always provided ample entertainment and distraction from the concept of actually having to socialize with those around him. As much as he wanted to get to know everyone, his social battery was rapidly depleting and he would be remiss to not acknowledge that being alone in his new room was a tempting venture.

In his current state, he felt very exposed and vulnerable, and that was not a sensation that he generally enjoyed. V couldn’t pinpoint what it was but, in a way, he felt like he was missing something. Yes, obviously he was missing much at the moment. Namely his loyal summons and their accompanying tattoos, but this was born of something more than that. When his mind wandered, his hands normally stopped that from occurring by turning his attention to something else entirely. But that something had been misplaced, and V was just now realizing what it was that was amiss. As he combed over the remnants of his still marginally fragmented memory, it occurred to him that he hadn’t the slightest idea where his beloved book had gone. Or his cane for the matter. While he didn’t require it to walk, it most certainly made him feel more secure in his person, as it reduced the risk of him falling flat on his face and breaking every bone in his body, or something else equally tragic and dramatic. And his book served a similar purpose, only for his mind instead of his body. He desperately craved a distraction despite not having a clear reason to need one.

As his subconscious drifted into idly thought, he was suddenly made aware of his surroundings again when a small hand tugged on him. He snapped out of his delirium only to find that Carlo had clambered into the seat beside him. While Nero, Nico, and Kyrie were engaged in some sort of conversation with one another about the dinner that he had yet to taste, the small child had seen fit to take his bowl of soup and relocate. No one seemed to notice except for V, as their current conversation proved a formidable distraction.

The young child smiled shyly at him before reaching for the nearest spoon with the intention of eating his soup. V felt a wave of silent panic hit him as the thought of the young child tipping the bowl by mistake and scalding himself crossed his mind. He was on the taller side for a child his age, but not quite at the height required to reach the table safely. V held his hands out and gently stopped the child, garnering a curious look from him as he scooped him up and sat him down next to the table. V then took the cushion out from underneath himself and sat it on top of the existing one in the child’s chair before ushering for him to climb back up. After noticing the child’s hesitation, it occurred to him that he might not be able to do so, so he lifted him up under the arms and plopped him back down into his again.

Carlo smiled and then turned back to his soup, ready and eager to finally eat his dinner. V internally sighed, unnaturally relieved that the sweet child before him hadn’t managed to harm himself. While the liquid wasn’t hot enough to do any notable harm to an adult, it was to a child his age, and he felt compelled to prevent that. V then turned his attention to his own bowl of soup and somewhat hesitantly ate a spoonful himself. Admittedly, he hadn’t been that hungry before now, which was uncommon for him. But now that he had tried it, he was beginning to warm up to the concept. There were descriptor words that he could use to describe how good this soup was, but he had made the decision a lifetime ago to only use those specific words under special circumstances. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind when he had set those restrictions. Regardless, this soup was delicious.  
After eating several spoons of the soup, it occurred to V that he hadn’t thanked Kyrie for dinner. He glanced up from his bowl and was slightly startled when he noticed that Nico and Nero were both staring at him like he’d grown a second head while Kyrie giggled happily. V mentally kicked himself. Why was his spatial awareness and concentration so bad today? Sure, he had plenty of reasons to not be feeling quite himself, but this still. Concentrating wasn’t something he had ever had an issue with. This was... unsettling.

V stared back at them, his eyebrow raised. What had he done this time? See this, this was why V was bad at small talk. The eye contact made his skin crawl, even when it came from people he actually liked. He could physically feel himself recoil in discomfort the longer they looked at him like this. After a moment he glanced back down at the bowl and continued eating. “... This is delicious. Thank you.”

If it was possible for a smile to physically render a person blind, then Kyrie succeeded. V stared at her and in surprise as she smiled, practically radiating actual light from her happiness. “Oh, thank you! I’m glad you like it! I noticed the weather, so I thought this would be a perfect time to make soup. And then you Nero brought you home and you seemed sick, so my mind was made up!”

Nico smirked and folded her arms as she gestured towards him. “I didn’t think you even ate food, V! Wow, it’s weird seeing you do… normal stuff, ya know?”

Nero nodded in agreement. Obviously, V ate food. He was a living, breathing being. But there was just something so oddly unnatural about having him over to eat with them. V was too mysterious and subtle to bother with petty normal people things like eating over with family. Or so Nero had figured for some reason that he couldn’t pinpoint. He didn’t really know what to say about it. In a way, he had been so wrapped in mystery and suspicion when they had first met that nothing he did or didn’t do didn’t seem unnatural or suspicious, but now he knew him much better than he had before. And yet somehow this was still just so surreal to him.

V shrugged as he finished eating his food, unsure of what to really say to that. “I would imagine that’s because I’m not exactly normal.” 

That all too familiar smirk returned as he put down the empty bowl, not at all noticing that he was the first person to finish eating by a longshot. He hadn’t exactly eaten the food quickly so much as he had simply not stopped eating it for even a moment from the second he tasted it. Part of him wanted to ask for more of it, but he decided against it. He had felt quite queasy earlier that day. It was best not to push it for now. He would sleep on this and see how he felt tomorrow.

Nero shook his head before going back to his food. “You got that right, V.”

-~-

When Kyrie had asked Nico to throw the clothes in the laundry while she put the kids to be, she didn’t hesitate. It was a better idea than allowing her to try and get them to calm down and actually go to bed. A much better idea. The last time that she had tried to do that, they had been up until three in the morning, and she had fallen asleep only to wake up the next morning to a catastrophic mess in the kitchen. No one wanted that.

Nero had volunteered to do the dishes in an act that had led to no small amount of friendly teasing from Nico before they had all gone their separate ways. And in an act that actually took every adult at the table by surprise, V volunteered to help him. Kyrie had insisted that he didn’t need to help since he was a guest, but he had politely insisted, partially from an incessant need to feel less useless, and because he had literally nothing better to do. And that was how they had ended up alone in the kitchen.

As Nero finished washing one of the dishes, he passed it to V who then dried it and placed it effortlessly in the overhead cabinet. Nero shrugged as if to ask his brother a question, testing the limits of how far he could push V in regards to jokes. 

“So what the hell,” He said as he handed him another cup. He accepted it nonchalantly as he leaned against the counter,” Have you always been this freakishly tall?”

V scoffed at the comment, idly drying the plastic drinking cup,” Absolutely. Walking with a cane simply makes that less apparent.”

Nero nodded. That made sense. “Then… why didn’t you just get a longer cane?”

V seemed to consider the question for a moment. Or rather, he debated if he should go into that right now. “I… wasn’t afforded the opportunity to pick in the situation I was in. I needed to act fast, or I wouldn’t have lived long enough to think about it later.”

An eyebrow went up at the answer. What the hell was he going on about? Had he been under attack? Nero knew just by the way that he answered that question that he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, at least not right now. But he still couldn’t help but wonder what he was referring to. His life before they had met seemed to be just as chaotic as ever. Would he ever tell him about where he came from? One thing at a time.

He gestured towards Nero’s arm almost lazily.” So, how did your arm grow back?” There was genuine curiosity in his tone, masked under a thick layer of sarcasm. He asked the question so bluntly that it nearly gave Nero whiplash. He stopped washing the dishes for a moment and gave V a sideways look. He didn’t sound like he didn’t care so much as he sounded totally unimpressed, almost like he already had an idea what had happened. Nero briefly considered showing him his Devil Trigger instead of just telling him about it and then came to his senses. If he triggered in the kitchen, he'd probably break everything in here. That, and he’d probably give V a protracted stroke, and he already had enough problems right now.

“I got some new powers and they just kinda fixed it. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to make it make sense,” Nero shrugged, unsure of how to really explain what happened. He wasn’t honestly one hundred percent sure himself. Just grateful.” It works like a normal arm and everything, but Nico modified the Devilbreakers so I can still use them. It’s pretty sweet.”

V nodded to himself, taking in what Nero had just told him. “So it didn’t grow back so much as it replaced itself, then.”

Nero paused for a moment to hand him the last dish before nodding to himself. “Yea, basically,” Nero turned the tap off and wiped his hands on the dish towel,” Why, you planning to cut something off and taking notes? I don’t recommend it. It’s fucking painful.”

He dried the dish and placed it in the cabinet, pausing for a moment. V gave Nero a subtle yet sympathetic look, nodding slowly. “Yes… I imagine that it did,” he reached over his head and closed the cabinet door,” And no, I don’t plan on losing any parts of my body. Dying again isn’t on my agenda as of yet.”

Nero stared at him for a moment in disbelief at the deadpan way he had just said that before bursting out into genuine laughter. Seriously, what the absolute fuck was wrong with him. He leaned on the counter for support for a moment as he tried to stop laughing, slightly lightheaded. V let slip a brief snicker before going totally silent again, trying not to let Nero’s stupidity get to him. When Nero finally stopped laughing, he shook his head and just rolled his eyes. “

“You’re the darkest asshole I’ve ever met in my entire life, you know that right,” Nero folded his arms and shook his head, suppressing a final laugh,” I and saw you fucking laugh.”

V shook his head once, his serious facial expression remaining. “No, I didn’t. I don’t laugh.”

Nero rolled his eyes again. Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

V scoffed, smirking wickedly. “That wasn’t a laugh. You’d be able to tell the difference.”

Nero turned in the direction of the doorway, en route to the stairs. “Whatever, V. Just-” Nero stopped for a moment, something occurring to him for the first time since they’d first met,” Actually what the fuck is your name anyway?”

He folded his arm, blinking a few times quickly. The totally calm look that he had on his face never wavered. V figured he’d ask that at some point, but it still didn’t change his answer. At least for right now. “No. Go to bed.”

Nero just looked at him for a second before. He had never thought that V actually had a sense of humor until now. Well, at least more of one than Vergil had. That wasn’t a very high bar to meet. Nero practically shuttered at the thought of Vergil ever trying to tell a joke. No, Dante had inherited all the funny genes. He utterly refused to believe that Vergil could be funny. And he never wanted to hear him laugh. EVER. He had just developed a phobia he didn’t even know existed.

As Nero took a step towards the bottom stair, he glanced back at V. For a moment the gravity of everything that had happened in the last two days hit him all at once and he couldn’t help but feel slightly emotional. He liked V. He didn’t know if he would ever tell him that straight to his face, but he did. And he was glad that he was back. Maybe they could start over. After he’d lost Credo, he didn’t think he had it in him to be close to anyone like that again. Not with that kind of relationship. But he was a different person now, so he could only hope, even if hope was a dangerous and foolish thing.

“... I’ll see you in the morning, V.”

V smirked, quietly pleased with himself. He turned towards the guest room, glancing back at him as he headed down the hall. “Yes,” he stopped for a moment, turning back to face him,”... Goodnight, Nero.  
-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some wholesome family time for V! It only took his entire life, but here we are! As always, thank you guys for reading! The next chapter will be out on Friday, June 5th between Noon and 6 pm, depending on what’s going on. And also, how do you feel about these slower chapters. Obviously, we’re working towards something with some ACTION, but I hope I’m not boring you with the pacing. Let me know! And thanks for the kudos, everyone! Yes, you too, anons! This is the most read fic I’ve ever written. Amazing. Just wow. I couldn’t be happier!
> 
> P.S.I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but I made a website just for reading my fics. It’s free if you want to check it out. I hope you like it. I made sure everything was really easy to navigate. Here’s the link: https://skvaderarts.wixsite.com/skvaderarts


	13. Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the last chapter! I was pretty tired when I edited it, so I’m sorry for any errors. I’ll be more careful and try to go back soon and correct anything I see. In the meantime, I want to thank Random Reader Nothing Special, BeansWithBones, and HunterJamie for their continued support. I always love talking to you guys! Now, back to the chapter! This one is going to be very... interesting. Haha!

Chapter Twelve: Dauntless

-~-

There was nothing visible within the inky blackness. No light pierced the veil, seemingly holding back all time and rendering distance irrelevant and imperceivable. Regardless of how far he reached in either direction, he never touched anything and the sensation of weightlessness he felt was disputed by the lack of air friction but felt nonetheless. Yet somehow he seemed to travel rapidly downward, the sensation of his stomach dropping being the only concrete indicator of any movement at all. After all, it was so dark in here that he could simply have gone blind. He would have no way of telling. Being this deprived of his senses wasn’t reassuring, but until he figured out what was going on, there was no way of knowing.

As V stood (or floated or fell downward... there wasn’t really a way of knowing for sure) within the dimensional equivalent of a sensory deprivation tank, he internally acknowledged that although he should feel threatened or concerned, he didn’t. There was something strangely familiar about this place that he couldn’t quite place. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that he had been here before. But that wasn’t possible... was it? After all, he should remember that. Or maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe the part of him that swore up and down that it had been here before was the only part of his subconscious that recalled a prior visit to this hellscape. How could he possibly say for sure?

In the blink of an eye, V suddenly felt every muscle in his body tense as he was hit with a powerful gust of air. As it grew in intensity, it dropped in temperature, the once oven-like heat taking on an otherworldly chill that sent him sliding back towards some unknown destination. Or it could have been forward for all he knew. It was literally impossible for him to tell at this point, especially with his arms folded around himself to protect his body from the unearthly force that pressed against him. It didn’t take long for him to lose his center of balance and topple to the side, launching forwards on what he could only assume was the floor. However, when he made physical contact with it, he found that it was soft and pliable, almost buoyant. The liquid clung to him but didn’t stick, possessing a quality similar to that of oil in water. Every bead of the abyssal substance ran off of his skin like it was coated in a hydrophobic substance. Every part of his body that made contact with it tingled slightly in response, and he was unsure if this was a good or a bad thing. Regardless, it was strange how much colder it was than the already freezing air. While not cold enough to remove any skin, it was more than a little bit uncomfortable. 

V launched himself to his feet, pushing himself upward with a quick press against the ground. To his shock, he kept tumbling backward instead of landing on his feet. It was as if the floor had rotated to keep him from gaining the upper hand. As he cartwheeled backward headfirst, he gained speed, flipping more times than he could even try to count. As he did so, his breathing became slightly frantic. Where was he going to land? Was he going to land at all? What if he was trapped here forever and this was how he would spend the rest of his natural (or unnatural) life? Did time even pass in this place? Had the entire day before this been nothing but a fever dream as he passed into eternal damnation? The idea of being stuck here quite literally spiraling out of control forever sure made it seem plausible.

“I need to regain my control over this situation,” He thought to himself with finality,” However I came to be in this place is irrelevant. I refuse to stay here any longer. If I could just stop-”

The very instant that the world “stop” passed through his mind, his body hit the ground with a heavy smack, knocking the wind out of him. The once soft material that he had touched merely a few moments before now felt like asphalt, a substance that he was all too familiar with falling onto. Every part of his body ached, although he somehow knew that he hadn’t broken anything. It was more like a toothache, a dull throb that traveled through every inch of his body leaving him immobile and uncomfortable. Thankfully, his pain threshold was legendarily high, so the instant his breath returned to him, he blinked and carefully clambered to his feet.

“I can only assume that you brought me here for a reason?” V asked cautiously. He had no idea the limits of the power that his place possessed.

The darkness did not respond. Instead, it remained woefully silent, unwilling, or perhaps unable to answer his question. He inhaled, unwilling to take silence for an answer. He hadn’t come here of his own volition, at least to his knowledge. He required answers. He was owed answers. And he was going to receive them.  
“So you’re going to tell me that you are capable of manipulating this entire place,” V said gesturing casually to the vast nothingness that encompassed him,” but you are not capable of communicating? How disappointing.”

The air (if that was what he was in. Presumably. After all, he was breathing) became statically charged, causing his thin, lightweight white hair to float upward slightly, spreading out around his head. His arms tingled as the static wrapped around him, making every hair on his body regardless of how thin, stand at attention. He exhaled, lifting his arms to look at them. He almost expected there to be something physically present, but there was nothing. This reminded him of something all too familiar, but he dare not speak his thoughts into existence. There was no way that this could have anything to do with them.

…

“If you have some sort of wisdom to impart upon me, I’d appreciate it if you would do so. I do not desire to be here any longer than I already have been.”

Again, the vast emptiness did not reply. At least not verbally. The inky ground bubbled and churned as if it were about to produce something from within it. Several back abyssal spikes broke free from the ground and encircled him, growing closer to him as they closed him in completely. V stood his ground, now thoroughly fed up with whatever the hell was going on. No, this was going to stop. Now.

“Either make your demands or release me,” he said, completely unamused by this situation,” I’m done entertaining your games.”

Before he could say anything further, the wind returned. Only this time it hit him with the force of a freight train. The spikes encapsulating him from behind dropped into the ground and he went flying backward, tumbling weightlessly, except this time much harder and faster than he had before. Every molecule of air left his lungs and he gasped as he crashed with devastating force into the now almost completely solid surface that surrounded him. He never got the chance to figure out if it was the wall, floor, or ceiling because he was rendered unconscious upon impact. It was lights out the instant he made contact with whatever he had landed on.

The young white-haired man gasped and jolted into an upright position in his bed, gasping for breath. His hair flopped down onto his face, sticking to the sweat that he seemed to be soaked in. As he panted breathlessly in an attempt to grasp as much precious air as his lungs could contain, he moved his arms and jolted in shock. In the places where the black substance had gripped him, were the faint but now fading remnants of his former familiar’s tattoos. Specifically Griffon’s. The marking glowed brightly, emitting white light as it outlined the corresponding markings. After a moment, the light faded, allowing V a better look. His arms and part of his chest were covered in faint grey markings that were barely perceivable to the naked eye. But they were most certainly his former tattoos. Of that, there was no doubt. The only difference was they were completely depleted of their power, the vibrant black luster now absent in its entirety.

After a moment, the marking disappeared entirely, leaving his arms and chest bare again and his mind swirling with a plethora of thoughts and anxieties. Had his resurrection unleashed something within him? After all, the place that he had just been in seemed to be metaphysical in nature. He had woken up in his room again after his visit, and his body was still just as sore as it had been a few moments ago. And to top it all off, his head throbbed from the supposed impact he had made with the ground just moments ago. Some aspect of that had to be real, didn’t it?

It almost felt like he had brought something back with him when he had returned and he couldn’t even pretend that that wouldn’t have consequences later down the line. For now, he would take a shower. Perhaps the soothing water would calm his nerves and give him a much-needed reprieve to focus his thoughts and form a hypothesis as to how this had come about.

Things had made so much sense before all of this had happened.

He didn’t like his old life, but at least he didn’t visit other dimensions in his downtime.

-~-

V’s hair was still stuck to his face, only this time it was from water instead of midnight precipitation. He had changed into the alternate set of clothing that Kyrie had left him the day before and sat down on his bed, noticing for the first time that daylight shined in from outside. It was later in the day than he originally thought. There wasn’t much due to the storm that still raged beyond the safe confines of the house, but at least things had calmed down somewhat since last night. Before there was no light at all, as if the clouds themselves had absorbed it with their arrival.

He sat there for a moment, his wet hair dripping down onto his shirt. He didn’t really notice it, and if he had, he wouldn’t have minded. Something more was going on, and the longer he stayed here, the more pronounced the feeling of ever approaching danger became. He needed answers. Urgently. For perhaps the first time in his life, he didn’t know much of anything about what was going on, and that unnerved him greatly. As his mind tried to piece together a coherent string of thoughts, V stood up and walked over to the window. After pulling the curtains shut, he leaned his head against them, noting how cold the glass was even through the thick cloth.

During his shower, he had time to think. And during that time, something had occurred to him. For the first time in his entire life, he needed to make a decision that pertained to his family. V scoffed to himself at the thought of it. How preposterous, the idea that he was now part of something like this. Until yesterday, he had no idea what it was like to be loved; to be wanted and accepted unconditionally by others. For the majority of his life up until this point, he had been an outsider everywhere he went. His distinct white hair was quite the head-turner in public spaces, and his stature made it nearly impossible to blend in even though all he wanted was to assimilate and be overlooked. And now he had exactly what he wanted, but in a way he would have never fathomed possible. 

More often than V would be willing to admit, he had sat and pondered the possibility of having a family somewhere out there, so much of his idle time and energy spent on possibilities and contingencies. But he didn’t have a plan of action for being loved and wanting to preserve the lives of those closest to him. Despite the fact that he barely knew Kyrie and the children, even Nero for that matter, it was undeniable that he felt… comfort when he was with them. That was something that he treasured. But what was that worth to him truly? Could he equate a worth to that?

It had been no coincidence that he should return and then have such a surreal out of body experience. And then there was this storm. It was anyone’s guess where his familiars had disappeared to when he had died, but he was willing to guess that simply returning to hell or fading into oblivion were off the table as possibilities. That was too simple, and they were not regular demons. Nightmares probably didn’t work the same way as your run of the mill lesser demon. After all, did a nightmare really ever die? Perhaps if they were forgotten, but even then the person who experienced them could still recall vague details about their dreams later down the line.

And then that presented another important question. Did V want his familiars back in the first place? While there was no question as to their loyalty and the strength of his relationship with them, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to devote himself to that path so fully. At the time that he had made his allegiances, he was presented with no other alternative. Literally backed into a corner, it was either fight or die, and he possessed no fighting experience or knowledge of how to control any abilities that he might possess. Was he ready to give up any possibility of a normal life and commit such a substantial part of being to this world that he had born so far from? When he had been raised away from the chaos that seemed to plague his family, he had been given a chance at a somewhat normal, if not arduous and miserable life. Somehow, even though he had never met the woman, he had the feeling that this wasn’t what his mother would have wanted for him. And a part of him respected and agreed with that sentiment. But another part of him resented the idea that he needed to be protected from his own existence. After all, if he truly was a descendant of Sparda, he couldn’t be that helpless. Maybe he just needed a teacher. From what little he had come into naturally, he knew he possessed abilities. Royal Fork was born purely from his will, no instruction required. And this nagging feeling of uncertainty that he felt now was almost assuredly supernatural in its insistence.

Did the need to repel danger at any cost constitute a choice at all?

By that notion, did anyone in his family truly have a choice in all this?

V gripped the curtains tightly, allowing his eyes to close before exhaling. He would always find the strength to embody the ideals that he stood for. The only issue here was that he had no idea what part he played in any of this. However, coincidences were something he was against on principle and he rejected them as a policy. If he actually thought that whatever was going on with this storm and his experience during the night were not somehow connected, then he was truly stupid. And although V was many things, stupid was not one of them. Before he could decide anything, he needed to be more informed. Going into things blindly had ended badly for him the last time.

Although he was the first to admit that he didn’t know very much about the island of Fortuna, he knew that this place had a history with demons. Word of the disaster here a few short years ago had reached the mainland in bits and pieces not long after it had occurred, and talk of magic and supernatural activity had shrouded the entire place in an air of mystery. Maybe he could ask Nero if he knew something about what had happened here. It was hard for him to believe that there could be a cataclysmic demonic invasion here and Nero hadn’t been involved somehow.

After taking a final breath to clear his overcrowded mind, he turned and headed to the bedroom door. He was tired already, and he hadn’t even been awake an hour yet. As he opened the door, the children ran past, more than likely headed in the direction of the stairs. Nero was standing just off to the side of the door talking on the phone with someone, although he hadn’t a clue who since he wasn’t talking loud enough to be heard clearly. Kyrie and Nico were nowhere to be seen, but he assumed they were somewhere nearby. A distant crash from inside of the garage followed by the sound of Nico cursing confirmed his suspicions. Some things never changed.

He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind himself just in time to hear Nero read off an address to someone and say something about seeing them soon before hanging up the phone. Nero turned, catching sight of V out the corner of his eye. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood from what V could decipher, his posture more relaxed than he was accustomed. Despite the three children playing not far from them, this was still a much less hostile environment than they were normally accustomed to being in. Wonderful. He could start his morning by totally killing the mood between them for the rest of the day. Just what he was going for.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Nero actually sounded somewhat surprised as he spoke,” I was wondering if you were getting up today.”

V glanced over on the small wall clock that hung over a mudroom rack near the entrance, noting that it was just shy of noon. He scoffed at the comment, seeming somewhat amused. 

“Ironic. This is actually rather early for me, all things considered,” He replied nonchalantly as he leaned against his bedroom door,” I actually have a question for you, if you can spare a moment.”

Nero spared a glance in the direction of the children playing down the hall. They had parked themselves in the living room, not going upstairs as V had assumed. If V was willing to guess, they normally played outside, but the storm had forced them to hang out inside and they were making the best of an unideal situation. Understandable.

“Shoot. What is it?” Nero asked casually.

V crossed his arms, capitalizing on his position against the wall to provide him the balance he required. “I need in-depth information on demons, specifically pertaining to alchemy or binding. Is there anywhere in town that houses that sort of information?”

Nero gave him a sideways look, clearly wondering what he could want with that kind of information. He seemed to ponder the question deeply for a moment as if he were debating something. After a moment, he sighed. “... No. Not in town. But…” Nere glanced up and down the hallway as if he was checking to see if anyone was within earshot,”... There was this one bastard that worked for the Order, a huge asshole named Agnus. He has a lab outside of town in some giant castle that Sparda supposedly lived in forever ago. That place is loaded with books. It was abandoned after the Order fell apart after the attack.”

V took in the response, nodded to himself as he considered the validity of finding anything useful there. It seemed likely. “How do I get there?”

The look on Nero’s face spoke volumes. While he was curious about what V could possibly want with that wretched place, he decided to just go with it. But the last thing he was going to do was let him go there alone. That was just asking for trouble. There were traps everywhere, and just because the Hellgate had been destroyed didn’t mean that the place wasn’t still crawling with demons.

Nero took a step towards the door and grabbed his sword, reaching for his coat with the other. This was going to be a long day. 

“Don’t worry about it. I can get you inside,” his mind was distant. Going back to the place where he had the first glimpse of his power was going to be very surreal,” I just hope whatever you want there is worth it. That place is nothing but trouble”

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! I am so sleepy right now. But I made sure to check the grammar on this chapter better than the last one. I’m sure something slipped past me, but it has to be better than last time. Thanks for checking out this chapter! It was really fun to write, especially the voice section at the start. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on that one. I’d love to see if any of you can guess what’s up with that place. In the meantime, stay safe out there and I’ll see you on Wednesday, June 10th with another chapter! Take care!


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Ensnared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: My eternal gratitude to SkylarMorgan1899, Random Reader Nothing Special, HunterJamie, Aureux, RubixaSeraph, and newcomer Psyco_Karma for their kind and helpful comments. Thanks for the ideas and Inspiration! I’m glad that the void scene at the beginning of the chapter was well received, and that you seemed to be looking forward to chapter thirteen! I had a great time writing this one wide awake at 6:10 am when I should have been sleeping so that I could spend another day doing nothing productive and slowly questioning my life in isolation. This is much better. Enjoy the chapter!

It didn’t take a keen intellect or inherent superpowers to realize that she was being followed.

There was just something wrong in the air, the darkened sky radiating a supernatural quality that she couldn’t help but notice and be wary of. Shortly before calling Vergil’s brother’s office, she had called to check in with Nero. Thankfully, nothing sinister had befallen them. The storm had been merciful to the island, but was still raging nonetheless. It would have been leagues easier to just ask Vergil to use his incredible Devil Arm to grant her safe passage to the island, but when she had called the office, he had not answered. She could only assume that he was not home or that he had fallen asleep away from the phone, as when she had called him in the past (what few times that she had needed to) he had always answered or called her back immediately, regardless of the fact that he had some sort of prevalent dislike of speaking on the phone. Something about it being too impersonal. Perhaps they didn’t have a caller ID function built into the mainline there? Regardless, she needed to go and check in on them. While the spell had gone better than planned, alchemy could be volatile, and she wanted to make sure that the child she had assisted had come through from the far beyond unscathed. Or as close to it as possible. No one was ever completely fine.

As the middle-aged woman made her way towards the pier, she had noticed that there were two individuals following her. While they could also be looking for passage by boat to some other part of the region or perhaps even work at the docks, she knew that that wasn’t the case. Magnolia had always possessed a sort of sixth sense for things like this, and she made a point of not giving up the fact that she knew they were there to them. It was still the middle of the day, storm or no storm. She was working off of the assumption that they would not be stupid enough to accost her in a normally highly traffick area of town. But that didn’t mean that she was unintelligent enough to completely throw caution to the wind and just march up to the docks without assuring her safety. She hadn’t lived this long by being stupid, even with Vergil in the underworld where he couldn’t get her into anymore of his chaotic schemes.

Magnolia shook her head as she walked, giggling to herself. She was only three or so years younger than him, but this wasn’t the first time he had come to her or her family for their expertise or assistance. As much as she knew it loathed him to admit it, when it came to matters of alchemy, Vergil was not incapable, but he had dabbled more in curses and wards by way of necessity than anything else. He had always been a diligent student of the craft, possessing something of a natural gift with dead languages, but she had feared his entire life that he might be indulging his desire for knowledge with the wrong sort of literature. She was a student of an entirely different field of study, even where most of her family was concerned, but that hadn’t changed her stance on the darker pieces of literature in her family’s library. Her lineage’s rueful relationship with curses had been half of the reason that he had sought her out in the first place, but that had been half a lifetime ago. She needed to focus on the here and now. There would be time to reminisce and catch up with him later on. Still, she had noticed something different about him that she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps he had learned from his mistakes and grown wiser with age? Not likely. At the end of the day, he was still Vergil. It would take something profound to trigger that sort of change in him, as it had taken that to morph him into the person she had known for two-thirds of her whole life in the first place.

Just moments later, she stepped around the corner and slowed her gait to a near stop. These were the last of the back streets. And in the middle of them were two hooded men wearing long black street coats. But they were not the same two that she had sensed tailing her before. No, they were probably with them, but those two were still following her. As if to prove this, they stepped around the corner she had just rounded a moment later, slowing to a stop behind her about the same distance she was from the two individuals in front of her. Magnolia placed her hands in her pockets casually, tilting her head to the side as her medium length brown and grey hair drifted in the strong breeze.

“Well, what’s this then? Planning to mug a lady in the street? Or is there a toll I’m not aware of?” She spoke playfully, aware that this tactic had prevented unneeded violence and bloodshed in the past. People were free to mistake her for being dim at their own peril.

One of the beings standing before her stepped forward, dropping his hood in a movement that she assumed he thought was menacing to her. He stopped just shy of eight feet from her, not quite close enough for them to touch, but enough to unnerve the average lost soul on the street. She was not fazed in the slightest, however. Although the man before her was a full head taller than her, they were about the same size. And if he posed a threat, he could never close the distance between them before she could make a move anyway. Magnolia never went into a fight assuming she was in full control of the situation, but she felt secure in this situation. Nothing about them appeared to be life-threateningly dangerous quite yet. She was a grown woman. She could handle this.

“You’re going to Fortuna, I presume?” The man asked it as though it were a question, but he seemed to already know her answer. Magnolia shrugged, meeting his gaze.

“Perhaps I am, or perhaps I’m just out enjoying the weather. I don’t see what business of yours that would be.” Her tone was stern, hinting at her lack of concern. Perhaps showing how little they intimidated her would make her point ring true to them.

The man leered, unamused by her commentary. “Everything is our business once you set foot on this street. So I’ll ask again. Are you headed to Fortuna?”

“I’m afraid I have to insist that my goings-on are absolutely nothing you should be concerning yourself with,” She used her hands to toss her hair back behind her shoulders, fixing the collar of her long coat in the process. The mist in the air was starting to dampen her normally frizzy hair and soak her soft knee-high boots and knit legging, adding to the chill that already permeated the air between them. “I’ll be going now, dears. Do take care of yourselves.”

With that, she stepped wide to her right, preparing to give the man plenty of room as she proceeded to her destination. Word had reached her through her contemporaries that a freight ship had just recently started taking shipments to Fortuna again. It would be the first since the storm had started yesterday, most docking due to the inclimate weather. But the slightly volatile water was nothing to a ship of that size, especially considering the fact that it didn’t possess sails that could be adversely affected by the winds.

Incensed by her lack of cooperation, the younger man in the black coat stepped forward as if to seize her to prevent her from leaving. She jumped back, the four men forming an arching around her in an attempt to corner her against a nearby building. They stepped closer than they had before, clearly expecting her to yield and surrender, proving them the answer to the question that the man she assumed was their leader had just asked. Instead, he stood her ground, unwilling to be pushed around and intimidated.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” The formerly hooded man said smugly,” Were not here to play around. And the man we represent doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Magnolia removed her left hand from her pocket, allowing it to rest at her side. Her right hand remained in its appropriate pocket. 

“Well, that’s quite unfortunate. Truly a shame,” her focus intensified as she assessed the men before her. Disarming any potential weapons they possessed was her first priority. It was a good thing there were no cameras on this part of the block.” I won’t ask you to leave me be a third time.”

Without speaking, the leader gestured towards her, and the other three men that accompanied him rushed forward, descending upon her like a pack of wolves. Magnolia exhaled and removed her right hand from her pocket. She placed her right hand behind her back and raised her left, speaking a single inaudible word under her breath. A moment later a blast of invisible energy shot forward, slamming into them with enough force to knock them off of their feet. One of the men slammed into a nearby building, more than likely knocking himself out cold. The other two rolled to a stop against a set of trash cans, one bashing his back on the edge of the alley. Their leader slid back several feet before regaining his balance, standing up to face her. He cursed under his breath before rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck and fingers. After doing so, he flared his coat and spoke under his breath, placing his hand on the ground.

As she was trying to discern what he had just said, the ground cracked open and several sets of stone coated legs crawled out of the opening. She jumped back, landing on her feet as she prepared to fight back against the giant stone beast that now stood before her. The large stone arachnid screeched at her, it’s huge glowing green center eye-locking onto her. It planted it’s front legs firmly into the tar coated street, opening it’s oversized mouth in preparation to attack. Magnolia’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t place the last time she had seen a Kyklops, and this kid had just summoned one? What the… 

This didn’t bode well.

Despite the fact that the young man had just brought it into this realm, he didn’t seem to have a great deal of control over the creature. He stood behind it, obviously struggling in his fight for control. She could only guess that this was the first time he had attempted this, and his lack of focus and experience showed. That was the issue with untethered summons. They could just as easily turn on their masters and kill them as they could destroy their summoner’s opponents. Luckily for him, the demon seemed to be more focused on her for the moment than it did him. It sucked in a breath before blasting out a large chunk of stone, several smaller fragments following it. She put up both hands, spreading them out in front of her as she used an altered version of her last spell to force the rocks back where they had just come from. The largest one cracked upon impact with her barrier, blasting backward in a shower of jagged stone that caused the demon to shriek in pain. It figured that it would take something equally hard to pierce its rough, stone coated exterior. 

Several of the larger pieces made impact with the distracted summoner as she lowered her right hand and used it to force several pieces of the stray stone towards the other two men who were in the process of clambering to their feet. They all toppled over, crying out in discomfort. The demon charged at her, bashing right into her barrier as she pushed forward and slammed into it, meeting it head-on. The demon cracked further as the pieces of sharp stone buried themselves deeper into it than they had before, effectively immobilizing it. In a final attempt at taking its attacker with it, it buried it’s damaged front legs into the ground and charged up a second attack. Magnolia braced herself as a second equally sized rock made contact with her barrier spell, this time at less than half the distance that it had been at before. 

She tumbled backward, rolling to a stop against a light pole as her shield dropped and the demon howled in pain, dropping dead and disintegrating into a pile of useless rock. She coughed, the air returning to her lungs as she climbed to her feet. The summoner was now unconscious, bleeding badly as his cronies lifted him to his feet while carrying their other comatose friend. One of them shouted curses at her, guaranteeing that she would be sorry for this when they returned. She stepped forward, ready to finish what she had started. The middle-aged woman noted how they practically jumped away from her in fright, startled and clearly unwilling to tango with the person who had just destroyed their first -and possible only- line of defense with deflection magic alone. Magnolia was willing to wager that they had not banked on her possessing a few tricks of her own. They hurried off as she yelled after them, unwilling to take their bullshit.

“I would advise against coming back here and starting anything with me again,” She said as they tucked tail and ran as fast as they could manage considering their condition and the state of half of their group,” You wouldn’t like to see what I can do when I’m not out of practice!”

As they hurried out of her line of sight, she turned and ran off towards the docks, acutely aware that she couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to get on board the vessel now. This may be the cult she had heard about on the news. She hadn’t paid them any mind until now, but if they possessed even a single summoner, regardless of how inept, then they posed a potential threat to her and her associates. She would attempt another call to Vergil when she was on board the ship, but she urgently needed to reach Nero and V in order to warn them of the possibility of danger. Magnolia could only hope that none of them had reached the island already.

This was what she got for being nice to Vergil Sparda.

-~-

“I’m quite intrigued,” V said as they walked along the icy ledge that encompassed the upper path around Lamina Peak,” I failed to notice before that you possessed wings.”

Nero laughed slightly at the statement, trying not to acknowledge the fact that it was literally cold enough up here to freeze them both solid. Thankfully, he had thought to lend him one of the trench coats that he never used anymore. A purple one with a black shoulder scarf. It fit V surprisingly well, something that he attributed to the fact that he had received it as a teenager. Although V was taller than him (which made the coat about four inches shorter at the bottom than it had been when he’d worn it last), it was still long enough to almost reach his knees. Nero was not as bone-thin as his guest, but he had possessed a different physical structure at the time he’d worn it. Not by much, but it was enough. And regardless, it was strange to see V in so many layers of clothing.

Getting V up the mineshaft had been quite an ordeal. He’d not thought to take the time to explain to him that he wouldn’t drop him when he’d informed V that the only way out was up. Practically tossing him up to the top using his new wings had been the only way to facilitate V’s entry. Nero liked to think there was another way in and no one had found it in a long time, but the odds were against him. The mining town had been rebuilt in the time since his original visit, but the mineshaft had barely been touched and mostly sealed off since. Most of Fortuna’s residents avoided the castle before everything had happened, regarding it as a sacred place. Now, they viewed it as a permanent mark on the land, the laboratory, and its experiments, something they wanted to pretend had never happened. No one wanted to think about the number of souls that had lost fueling Agnus and the Order of the Sword’s ambitions. Anything that made it easier to go there had been completely swept under the rug. But regardless, the two of them were now here, heading to the one place Nero was happy to never set foot in again for the rest of his life. He had had enough of the place and its endless traps during prior visits. Hopefully, this would be the last time he’d have to visit this cursed place.

“I guess neither of us notices things like that,” Nero said as they carefully rounded the corner, the near-blizzard conditions that seemed to plague this place not relenting in their passive-aggressive attempts to kill them both,” I never noticed you had white hair.”

V smirked knowingly. He had made a point of that. While the time had come on a few occasions to explain himself during their ordeal in Redgrave City, he had counted the concealment of his natural hair as an added bonus to possessing Nightmare. While he had come to terms with his unusual genetic quirk a long time ago, having a short time in his life where he mostly blended in with everyone else had given him much needed levity and clarity. He didn’t really miss it now, but it had been nice at the time.

As the castle came into full view, V stumbled slightly, catching himself before he could pitch forward and fall face-first into the snow. Nero reached to grab him, fearful that he might tumble off the edge of the mountain to his death. Upon realizing that he had regained his balance, he lowered his hand. But he kept the notion that he might need his assistance in the back of his mind. That had to be the dozenth time that he had almost fallen during their trek through the snow. It seemed that his balance issues were exacerbated by the unsteady ground. Nero was starting to see why V walked with a cane, despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with him. 

“You want me to just carry you, or are you good,” Nero asked lightheartedly,” Wouldn’t want you to fall after all that shit I said to Vergil about you being safer here.”

V scoffed at the statement, slightly amused. Considering their previous interactions, V wasn’t entirely sure his father cared about what condition he was in. But, considering their relation to one another, some part of him wanted to believe that. As they stopped at the end of what seemed to be the remains of a balcony or tower of some sort, he stared across the vast ice field at the monstrous structure that loomed over them. Even at this distance, Fortuna Castle was an intimidating structure. It made him wonder how old this place truly was. What a stupendous work of art.

“If I needed you to carry me, you would know,” V said quietly as he admired the building, slightly entranced by its magnitude. He couldn’t have imagined that it was this big when Nero had first described it to him,” You said this castle supposedly belonged to the Dark Knight Sparda, correct? It’s rather impressive, wouldn’t you say?”

Nero nodded, joining him at what remained of the rail. The blizzard was behind them now, the chilly air quiet. Everything was rather serene, especially considering the circumstances that had led them here. He hoped the trip was worthwhile and that whatever books V was looking for were written in a language he could actually read. Nero himself had scanned through a few pages during his first visit and couldn’t make out much of it. It consisted of mostly strange symbols and what he assumed to be Latin. The writing had been foreign to him, even after having such an old faith shoved down his throat his entire life. It wouldn’t surprise him if he could read some of that, considering the type of shit he quoted on a regular basis, but still.

“It’s pretty big, yea,” Nero said plainly. Perhaps his experiences here had diluted the magic for him,” Last time I was up here, a tower almost fell on me. Let’s get out of here.”

V looked down below them. What remained of the staircase was broken, cracked, and iced over, a literal nightmare for him considering his lack of a cane. At that moment, he longed for the familiarity of his old improvised weapon. It had proved to be quite versatile. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that he was walking into a potentially dangerous situation totally unarmed. Nero started down the steps, looking back at him as if he were going to ask why he wasn’t following him but then thinking better of it. He was pretty sure he knew why. “I’m not gonna make fun of you if you change your mind”

Upon hearing his statement, V turned to look at him. He had a thoughtful look on his face, his mind combing over the probability of dying here. While he trusted Nero implicitly, putting his life entirely in his hands was a huge step for him. He’d never really had anyone he could actually trust in the first place. He was hoping that he’d live long enough to think back on this moment and dismiss it as his overactive mind trying to push him away from a perfectly logical space. He really was.

After a moment, he followed him down the stairs, immediately aware of how nither of them should be on them. Part of him felt immense guilt about the fact that he was the sole reason Nero was here right now, quite clearly in danger on his behalf. They made their way down them carefully, Nero extending his arm for him to grip when he had to step across particularly precarious spots. When they reached the very last large gap in the stairs, Nero jumped across first, gesturing for V to follow him. The older of the two glanced over the side. There was about a thirty-foot drop to the ground below them, if they actually cleared the rubble. V sighed. This was uncomfortably risky. While they might not die should they fall, he was relatively sure that they could be seriously hurt. The idea of breaking a leg and laying in the snow until they both froze to death was very low on his list of ways he’d like to die.

“Just jump across, V. I’ll catch you,” Nero assured him from the other side of the gap,” I’d fall over this rail before I dropped you. You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

But somehow, that was the exact opposite of what V wanted to hear. He didn’t doubt that, but he still didn’t want to see any harm come to Nero on his behalf. But his rational mind reminded him that Nero was nowhere near as fragile as he was. If he had survived an entire tower nearly falling on him on a previous trip, he could handle this.

“Oh, I have no doubts about that. I know you wouldn’t,” He said idly but sincerely as he used his eyes to guestimate the distance between himself and the other side,” It’s just that the last time I traversed an unstable structure, it collapsed and I nearly drowned in a river.”

Nero mentally kicked himself. Why did that sound so familiar? He was so sure he hadn’t been there when that had occurred but, somehow, he felt like he’d seen it happen. Perhaps from a distance? How weird.

A moment later, V finally worked up the nerve to attempt to join him. He stepped back before carefully jumping across. In an act that took them both by surprise, he overshot the space, practically catapulting himself into him. They both tumbled backward, knocking against the frozen railing with a hard thump. Nero caught V with his arm, stopping him from somersaulting over him and going head first over the railing. Despite the uncomfortable closeness and the fact that they were thoroughly tangled in on another while laying on a frozen staircase, Nero stifled a laugh. This was a mess. They were a mess. How the fuck had this even happened?

“See this, this is what I was trying to avoid. We-”

V attempted to sit up at the same time that Nero did, the two of them still tangled in one another. His sentence was cut off, however. Suddenly, there was an audible bumble as the ground beneath them vibrated. They exchanged a startled glance before the staircase crumbled and they both went careening towards the ground. As the staircase crumpled in on itself, Nero managed to grab a hold of V with his free hand, using his translucent blue wings to slow their fall by forcing them outward and up with a rapid twist, safely away from the collapsing structure. V yelped in surprise as they came to a comparatively gently landing, his knees buckling as his feet made contact with the ground. Nero slid over him, landing just a few feet in front of him.

After a moment, Nero exhaled and turned to find V steadying himself as he tried to climb to his feet. The younger of the two extended his arm to him, fully willing to lend him a helping hand. V took it this time, aware that he couldn’t quite regain his equilibrium. They stood for a moment in the center of several vertically and horizontally aligned stone pillars that were positioned on either side of the bridge that they needed to cross in order to enter the building. V could only hope that it was warmer inside.

They nodded to one another in confirmation before turning to make their way towards the massive front doors that led into the building. They were here for a purpose. Get in, find what they were looking for, and then leave. Pretty straight forward. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thanks for reading this chapter! It was really fun to get to work on! See you guys on Friday the 12th of June for the next installment! And thanks again for your ongoing support! I’d love to hear what you think about Magnolia’s abilities and the chapter as a whole. See you soon!


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Consternation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I wanted to thank you all again for your support. Seeing each and every one of you come back every week to read my writing makes me smile every time I think about it. It’s the best feeling in the world to know that you’ve created something that appeals to others as much as it appeals to you. Thank you all again.

The ground rumbled, sending a booming wave of vibration reverberating through the entirety of the first two floors of the castle like thunder shaking a monumental skyscraper. As the doors groaned loudly, protesting their separation, air hissed through from the other side of the door as if an airlock had been opened. It had been an exceedingly long time since anyone had come here, and the bitter cold had practically sealed the place shut. As the door pried itself open, it suddenly came to a stop, leaving just enough space for them to slide through. In a way, it was almost as if the castle had realized that it was being entered and had made an effort to stop its intruders.

Nero considered the risks of stepping through for a moment, still determined to find a way inside. He glanced up at the towering structure that stood before him. There were windows and balconies everywhere he looked, but they’d have to scale several sheer walls to reach them, and that was debatably just as bad of an idea as trying their luck with the front door. The castle had always seemed to possess a strange sort of sentience, doors locking and unlocking with a frightening level of autonomy. And that was to say nothing about the ridiculous amount of wards and spells safeguarding the damn place that were still active. There was no guarantee that it wouldn’t close the doors on them while they were in the process of going through them.

While Nero contemplated the risks associated with either decision, something occurred to him. Most of his life, he could’ve been charitably described as reckless. In high-risk situations that were more likely to end in death than victory, he was normally the first to waltz in, insults and swagger at the ready. But since losing Credo a few years back and more recently his arm (which had thankfully regrown) he had actually started to take the time to consider the risks involved before he enacted one of his plans. At least on occasion. There was no denying the fact that when he chose to do something, it had an effect on the people he was closest to, even if they were not present. If he didn’t come back, they would be worse for it, especially Kyrie and the kids. And in this case, he had agreed to bring V to one of the most fickle and dangerous places possible with only him for protection. Magnolia has said that his abilities would slowly return in the coming days and weeks, but the important thing to note was that they were still dormant as of now. What would V do if he was backed into a corner or they became separated? Nero didn’t really want to think about it. When had V’s fatalistic personality rubbed off on him?

The younger of the two stopped for a moment, trying to rid himself of the possibility of failure. If he went in with that sort of toxic mindset, he was doomed to fail. It was as simple as that. And he utterly refused to allow any harm to come to V. It didn't take a mental giant to come to the conclusion that V didn't’ trust very easily, so the fact that they were here at all spoke volumes to the kind of faith V had placed in his abilities. It was borne partially out of necessity and desperation, but that was still significant. Neither of them were weak or stupid, and they both shared a similar issue with putting their lives in the hands of others, even if they trusted that individual implicitly. Nero had taken on a sort of silent promise the moment he had agreed to this, being that he was the only one present who was capable of defending himself. So long as they were within the walls of this castle, V was his responsibility. The thought made him shudder slightly. 

While he had defeated the very worst that this place had to offer (at least to his knowledge) he still didn’t care for the idea that V was essentially helpless. When they had been in Redgrave City together, V had been surprisingly self-sufficient for a person who walked with a cane. At first glance, the most dangerous thing about him was his wit; the second most intimidating thing being his height. V towered over an average person, even when slumped over on his cane. And despite the fact that he was perhaps the most physically vulnerable out of all of them, he had volunteered to stay behind for the month that Nero had spent away in an effort to find a way to become stronger, trying to hold back the tilde wave of demons that had sought to overtake the city and then the rest of the human world by extension. The fact that V had been capable of doing that with abilities he barely understood and summons that he had only recently acquired from what he could tell astonished him. They seemed to be relatively close in age, after all. Where had this stark contrast in their abilities come from? Were the older members of their bloodline simply born with a disposition towards higher amounts of power? Vergil had been a nightmare to take down, after all. Every fight with Urizen had been totally draining in every way conceivable. The possibility of an opponent stronger than Dante had been unfathomable, but his own twin had been happy to rise to the challenge. Nero couldn’t help but wonder just how strong V had the potential of being if he himself was anything to go by. Without his physical limitations, what was he capable of? Or was that a limitation at all? Just how evenly matched were they?

Nero spent a moment lost in his thoughts while V stood quietly next to him, The eldest of the two admiring the building before them. Yes… there was simply something to this place, wasn’t there? V inched forward, wishing now that he had Shadow at his disposal. He could make short, effortless work of this issue with her present. While he had gotten around just fine on his own two feet for years, the quick burst of speed that the demonic panther had provided never ceased being useful. A part of him wondered what his familiars were up to, despite the fact that he already knew they were no longer a part of this realm. Griffon and Shadow had been in a sorry state when he had decided to make a contract with them. The two of them couldn’t have survived very long without him to anchor them here. In a way, that was the beauty of the situation that they had found themselves in. Their entire union had been born of necessity and co-dependence. Any chance of treachery or falsehoods had evaporated the moment that they had attached their markings to his skin, for without his lifeforce, they would not be long for this world.

V shivered slightly, be it a result of the cold weather or his ever treacherous, thoughts he couldn’t say. He adjusted the coat Nero had allowed him to barrow slightly. It was comfortable and well insulated, especially in combination with the black shirt he was currently wearing underneath it. Somehow he always found himself in black clothing. How that happened, he didn’t know. Something about the color (or lack of color) just spoke to him. And that was to say nothing of the fact that it literally matched everything. After he fixed his clothing, he stepped towards the door, carefully assessing it. In theory, the structure shouldn’t shift as long as he didn’t touch it. There was more than enough room for them to pass through without that becoming an issue.

Nero watched V carefully slip through the gap between the doors, somewhat shocked to see him do so before him. He had figured that V would simply wait for him to come to a conclusion as to whether or not it was safe, but he hadn’t done so. But then again, Nero hadn’t been around to help him make all of his decisions his entire life. V was more than capable of coming to his own conclusions. Nero followed closely behind him, noting that he had made a point not to touch the doors. That made sense to him. Perhaps the door wouldn’t move if he just didn’t touch it?

After nearly snagging his coat on the door, Nero joined him inside of the great hall. While the younger man adjusted his coat, V made his way over to one of the displaced pews that sat up against the wall and sat down, clearly awestruck by the structure they stood within. It seemed that his former strength had yet to return to him. Exhaustion was a powerful force to try and fight against, but at least he wasn’t out of breath. Nero walked over and sat down next to him, casually assessing his situation. Just because he knew what was wrong with him didn’t mean that he didn’t care. 

“You good or do you want to wait a while?” Nero asked, his voice betraying the slight bit of worry that he couldn’t quite suppress.

V exhaled, craning his neck to look over at him. He seemed calm and collected, his condition apparently not adversely affecting him too much. “I simply needed to catch my breath,” he said as he stood up,” It would be wise if we started with the library. Do you know where it is from here?”

Nero stood up to join him and nodded, gesturing towards the large staircase at the far end of the room. The magic barriers that had once cordoned off practically everything in this place were gone for the moment, making traversal much simpler than it had been the first time he had been here. From what he could tell, they activated in response to threats or other unknown sources of stimuli, and with the nearby Hellgate in ruins, there wasn’t much to speak of. Not to mention the fact that if Sparda had in fact lived here and had been the one to place the barriers in the first place, they might simply allow them to traverse the grounds unobstructed. Or, at the very least, not immediately try to kill them.

As the duo made their way over towards the staircase, V couldn’t help but notice the condition of the room. Most of the pews were out of place, there were varying sizes of stone debris littering the ground, as well as what looked to be a ridiculously sized chandelier laying destroyed at the top of the stairs next to a large gaping hole in what looked to be a piece of art or something that had once been attached to the wall. He smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Am I to assume this is your handiwork, Nero?” He said sarcastically, obviously already sure as to who had done this.

He made no effort to suppress the snicker slipped past his lips as he recalled the time he had mounted that gaudy thing and launched it through the painting of the former vicar. That sanctimonious bastard Sanctus (lol, just noticed the meaning of his name!) would have been so thoroughly pissed to know that he had destroyed it. Part of him hoped that he had discovered it before he’d sent him on a one way express trip to hell, but another part of him couldn’t care less about how Sanctus felt. That self-righteous prick had got what was coming to him for what he did to Credo and the rest of Fortuna.

“Yea, I did this a couple of years back. Cre-,” Nero stopped, realizing that he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet,”... Someone I used to look up to sent me to track down Dante right after we first met and that’s how I found Agnus’s lab. What a shitshow that whole thing was…”

V noticed that Nero had stopped in the middle of saying something, but chose not to dwell on it. The younger man struck him as very genuine. V could only assume that if he didn’t want to talk about something (which he clearly didn’t) that there was a good reason for it. He himself had no small number of secrets and deeply repressed issues that he didn’t want to address. There was no room for him to judge others on their personal decisions when it came to these sorts of things. And besides, walking up the stairs without tripping and falling was enough for him to worry about at the moment.

Nero waited at the top of the stairs for him as he carefully made his way up. He wasn’t going slowly, but then again, he wasn’t going very quickly either. Should he be walking on a flat surface at the moment, this would be more of a stroll. But the height that the balcony sat at made this a rather lengthy staircase to navigate. Thankfully the slope was gentle and the stairs were wide. 

“We seem to have a gift for walking into disasters,” V said as he made his way up the stairs,” I’ve heard precious little about what transpired here a short while ago, but none of it sounded very pleasant. Quite the tragedy.”

Nero nodded in agreement, heading towards the door on the far right of the steps. That was an understatement. So many innocent lives had been lost that day. Although the people here had taken most of his life to warm up to him, most of them were very accommodating towards him, now that the Order had been exposed. And even if they hadn’t been, he couldn’t quite bring himself to despise them. No one deserved to die the way so many of them had during that attack. Well, at least no one he knew of currently. A few of the higher-ups in the Order of the Sword might be exceptions to that. Nico’s useless excuse for a father definitely landed on that list.

A thought occurred to him as he examined the door, remembering that it needed an external mechanism to unlock it that was located on a nearby wall. How would things have been different should they have both ended up in the same orphanage as children? Had V always been this frail? Nero knew so little about his life, and the more he thought about it, the more it surprised him just how out of the loop he was. He glanced back at V as he headed over to the lock. He could only imagine that V probably hated stairs. They seemed to give him no small amount of trouble, at least without his cane. As V reached the top of the stairs, Nero took Red Queen off of his back and swung it several times rapidly, lighting up the nodes built into the enchanted gear. It spun rapidly before the little arrows that stuck out of it slammed back into their proper places, locking into position as it glowed bright blue. The blue glyphs that sealed the door blinked in an unusual pattern before dissipating, a loud click signaling that they could now make their way inside. 

V stepped forward, watching in silent curiosity as the seals dropped. This place became more and more interesting every passing moment that they spent inside of it. How fortunate It was that Nero was here with him. He didn’t currently possess a means of unlocking a ward of this nature. Should he have been alone, this would’ve been the end of his journey.

“Is every door in this castle guarded by arcane spells,” V asked, genuinely curious and slightly wary. He was starting to see the possible dangers that Nero had alluded to.

Nero shrugged absentmindedly. “Yea, kinda. And there are secret doors all over the place that go to the stupidest places. One of them is in the library, but it only works one way. You can’t go through it from both sides.”

Before either of them could say anything further, the sound of creaking metal could be heard from nearby. They both glanced in the direction of the gaping hole in the wall, noting that the chandelier was vibrating. A moment later, shards of metal flew every which way and a sound somewhat similar to a buzz saw rang out, disrupting the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. As soon as a path was cleared, several fin-like extremities made their way into the room, followed by a seemingly endless swarm of flying blade-like contraptions. Nero’s breath caught in his throat. In the span of less than a minute, a few dozen Gladius and Cutlass had entered the room. Agnus might have been dead, but apparently his legacy lived on. The laboratory wasn’t too far below them. Were these leftovers from his experiments that had been left to their own devices since their master was now deceased?

While these particular demons were not too much of a challenge to dispatch, Nero was not keen on dealing with them with V directly in the line of fire. The sheer number of them and the combination of surfaces they could cover in an instant made this a deadly match up. V seemed to clue into this, stepping back carefully to open the door. Seeming the instant that he moved, several of the Cutlass deviated from their current path and dived towards them. Nero cursed, drawing Blue Rose to dispatch them before they could make contact. A few well-placed rounds eliminated any plans that the demons may have had of causing any damage. The sound, however, attracted the attention of almost every other demon in the room. They grouped together, swirling into a cylinder as they sped up, the flying monstrosities clearly building momentum for something more dangerous. Nero spared a glance towards V, who didn’t look frightened so much as he looked perturbed and concerned. The summoner had never seen these artificial demons before and had no idea how to combat them. Not that he could anyhow.

As the door creaked open, the swarm of Cutlass made a sharp left and launched themselves at the duo, clearly intending to harpoon them. Nero took aim and fired off several rounds in rapid succession, not a single one missing due to the sheer number of possible points of impact. About a dozen of the winged menaces lodge themselves in the wall and floor around them, clearly demonstrating that they hadn’t become any duller during his infrequent visits. With one well-placed charge shot, Nero managed to cut a swath through his enemies, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath as they diverted and turned to circle back around for another attack. The Gladius seemed to understand their intentions, as they grouped together and joined them, seemingly preparing to pull off some sort of coordinated attack.

Nero and V had absolutely no intention of sticking around to see what they had planned.

The second they were given an opportunity, Nero shot one last charged shot into the group of demons in an effort to dissipate and slow them and they both bolted through the door. Closing it behind them immediately became problematic as the barrage of demons attempted to follow them through, forcing the door to stay open. Nero and V both braced themselves against the door to try and hold it shut while Nero used his free hand to shower the bladed terrors in hot led, realizing quickly that it was going to do very little against the Gladius if they managed to slip through.

“V, can you make it to the other door,” Nero asked as she quickly gestured towards the balcony exit on the far side of the art gallery,” We can’t hold them off that much longer!”

That depends,” V said almost too calmly as he tried not to slide down towards the floor, his meager frame straining under the effort required to help hold the demons at bay,” are you coming with me?”

Nero didn’t need to ask if V was willing to leave here without him. No. No, he wasn’t. His question implied that simply in the manner that it was asked. Without even needing to say it, he had just told him everything that he needed to know about the extent of their relationship, at least from V’s perspective. Despite their situation, Nero was genuinely touched, if not a bit surprised by how transparent V was being with him. Perhaps he didn’t want to potentially end their relationship on a bad note? Regardless, Nero nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.”

V paused for a moment, giving him a hesitant but believing look. He didn’t think Nero would lie to him. A second later he bolted towards the door, leaving Nero alone to try to hold them off until he could unlock the second one. The younger of the two immediately felt the difference in the weight he was trying to hold back, somewhat surprised at how much V had actually contributed to keeping the door closed. He slid back for a moment before forcing himself forward, unwilling to let the door open. Just a moment later, V managed to get the door open and Nero rushed towards him, fully aware that they had to get the second door closed before the hoard pursuing them managed to reach them.

He slipped through after V, sliding to a stop at a few Cutlass managed to slip through the cracks before they could close the door. As the door slammed shut, they were both blasted off their feet and into the balcony railing by a barrage of attacks from the demons. V gasped as the air left his lungs when he made impact with the ground and railing while Nero regained his footing quickly and grabbed one of the Cutlass, launching them towards the rest of the group. He noted that V seemed to be struggling slightly to stand up, debating if he should simply snatch him off his feet and carry him to the library door. The sound of screeching metal cut through the air as the Gladius attempted to cut their way through the door holding them at bay. He didn’t doubt for a second that they were capable of doing that as he grabbed his sword and revved the throttle built into the handle, sending smoldering sparks flying through the air as the blade glowed crimson. With one well-placed lunge, the flying pests were eliminated and he turned his attention back to V, noting that he still hadn’t quite made it to his feet. What was going on with him?

Nero extended his hand, more than willing to help him up. “You okay, V?”

V exhaled shakily, betraying his distress as he raised a blood-covered hand to grip his brother’s extended hand. The eldest of the two had been allowing it to rest on his right side in what Nero assumed to be an attempt to stop any further bleeding. Nero did a quick double-take, concerned and unsure as to how harm had managed to come to V during their ordeal. One of the Cutlass must have managed to get between them during their getaway.

“I assure you, I’m fine. It’s just a flesh wound,” V said as Nero gently helped him to his feet. He seemed to be out of breath, but otherwise stable,” We should leave this place. I do not think that door will hold them at bay for much longer.”

Nero nodded in agreement as they headed towards the other end of the walk. Once they were somewhere more secure, he would check on him. If they could make it to the library unseen, the demons would more than likely go back to their idle state and stop pursuing them until they passed by again at some point. As they headed towards the door, Nero took notice of the fact that V seemed to be leaning on him slightly, more than likely in need of additional support due to his injury. He wondered to himself for a moment if V healed like the rest of their family and came to the conclusion that he most likely didn’t since he seemed to still be bleeding. That admittedly concerned him.

A moment later they entered the library. Nero carefully led V over to one of the rails, watching as he slid down to a sitting position and exalted in clear discomfort. Much like they had the last time he had been here, the doors sealed shut, the blue emblem that had adorned them on his first trip still active. He could only assume that was a good thing but wasn’t entirely sure. He didn’t really understand how all of this magic bullshit worked. The mechanism that allowed him to break the seal before was still in the room and it was still in its active form, but he wasn’t if he could move it without possessing the device that he had found here previously. His old arm had absorbed the Anima Mercury. There was no way of guaranteeing that he still retained the ability after his run-in with Vergil.

For a moment they just stood there, attempting to catch their breath. The Gladius and Cutlass had seemingly halted their assault for the moment since there was no sound coming from their direction. For the moment, they were safe, if not a bit banged up. And the both needed a moment to collect themselves. Nero hadn’t seen the castle this active in a long time, even when he had come here to help Nico earlier this year. Everything had been dormant at that time.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this trip.

They needed to leave as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading this chapter! I spell-checked everything, but if I missed anything, feel free to let me know. It’s funny how two grammar and spelling problems still can’t get the job done, am I right? Anyway, I’ll see you all on June 17th for chapter FIFTEEN! Gosh, it’s cool to be able to say that! I look forward to reading and answering your comments. Have a great rest of your week!


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Telemiscomunications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for the comments once again! I tried to take the time to respond to them all. Talking to everyone always puts a smile on my face. This chapter and the next are shorter set up chapters, mostly due to the fact that the next few chapters will be longer as we reach the climax of the story, and I needed to flesh them out more. But don’t worry. This isn’t the end of the story; not by a long shot. This is just book one. At about chapter seven I realized that this wasn’t going to be a single book affair, so I started work on planning part two’s ending. The structure of the story didn’t work as one very long book, so there will be a second installment. More on that later. For now, thank you for your continued support and enjoy this chapter! I’ll keep writing for as long as you keep reading!

If it was somehow possible to sleep for almost a full day without trying to, Vergil had just done it. This was very much unlike him. The eldest Son of Sparda couldn’t remember the last time that he had slept that long, especially considering the fact that he was in an unfamiliar environment and didn’t generally drop his guard. Genuinely restful sleep wasn’t something that he experienced often, so he relished the opportunity despite the fact that he hadn’t intended to do so. When he had gone to check out the room that Dante had given him, it was as if the bed had called him into it. One moment he was standing in the doorway, and the next he was waking up at dusk the next day. The transition had been so seamless and sudden that he had thought it was the same day at first. But then he had stumbled into the main office and Dante had started laughing. Vergil had no idea what his younger twin brother found so humorous, but he had a feeling he was going to find out very shortly.

“I was starting to think you were dead,” Dante said as he sat at his desk eating pizza.

The Jukebox was blasting some song that the older twin didn’t recognize but didn’t really acknowledge enough to feel any sort of way about. It was just aimless background noise to him. Vergil glanced over at him, not really sure what to say to that. It wasn’t his fault that his brother hadn’t been smart enough to check his pulse if he thought that something was wrong. It occurred to him that Dante had more than likely checked on him multiple times in order to come to that conclusion. How odd that he hadn’t noticed. Did he really sleep that deeply? Surely not. He liked to think that he would notice if someone was that close to him, even if he was unconscious. Dante couldn’t be that sneaky, could he?

Vergil strolled across the room to glance out of the large windows that spanned the length of the walls, in need of something to idly pass his time. While residing within the same building as his brother wasn’t something he had come to dislike as of yet, he still found the need to have his own space. Right now, he was out of his element. The office didn’t quite feel like home to him just yet. While he never felt entirely safe and wasn’t very adept at dropping his guard (a lifetime in the underworld does that to you) he felt more at ease here than he’d like to admit. Although he wasn’t really sure quite yet why that was, he couldn’t help but notice.

As Vergil gazed out at the storm that raged just beyond the glass, he clasped his hands behind his back. He suddenly had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. The eldest Son of Sparda didn’t know what that premonition pertained to, but it was as clear as day. Or perhaps not the day, considering the current weather. The storm was quite… dramatic, wasn’t it?

“... You thought I was dead and didn’t think to check,” Vergil didn’t turn to look at Dante as he spoke. He was thinking, but about what, he wasn’t sure. It seemed that he might not be as awake as he initially thought.

Dante took a piece of pizza and leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on the opposite end of the desk from where the delivery box was. “Well, if you died, I guess we could just give your friend a call,” Dante said, clearly being sarcastic. The younger of the two obviously didn’t want Vergil dead. But even if he thought he was, there was no way in hell he was going to try to wake him up to find out.

Before Vergil could retort, the phone rang. The old rotary style phone had been through plenty of abuse in its lifetime, so it was a wonder that it worked at all. Much like the jukebox, it seemed to be determined to remain a part of the office. Vergil glanced over his shoulder at his brother as Dante groaned. Why did people always have to interrupt him when he was trying to eat?

“If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were avoiding someone,” Vergil said sardonically, a hint of amusement in his voice,” one your female companions, I presume?”

Dante pointed at him as if to tell him to watch it, resisting the urge to mock him childishly. Vergil was on a winning streak in regards to his behavior. It had been three whole days and he hadn’t stabbed anyone to death yet. That was truly something to cherish. Mind you, he had spent a third of that time asleep, but still. It was an achievement he didn’t want to actively sabotage. But Vergil was actually right for once. He was absolutely avoiding Lady, Trish, and Morisson at the moment. Or even worse… Patty. He had a lot going on right now. The last thing he wanted to think about was the money he owed the girls or the birthday party that Patty was never going to let him live down. There would be a time and a place for that later. Hopefully much, much later. As in never.

Half expecting to be cursed at the moment he answered the phone, Dante reached forward and snatched the phone off of the receiver. It had been a long time since he’d answered it. Before he could recall a single syllable from the English language, a woman’s voice spoke from the other side of the line. It wasn’t the girls. It was Magnolia.

“Oh thank heavens! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you lot all day! Where have you been?!” The woman’s voice held a note of worry as she spoke. She was clearly concerned and flustered but holding her composure well nonetheless. “I’ve been trying to speak to Vergil. Something is happening and I’m not sure what it is.”

Despite the fact that the phone didn’t have a speaker function, Vergil heard her loud and clear. The twins had a keen sense of hearing. Barely anything escaped their notice. Vergil turned away from the window and walked back over to the desk, interested in hearing what she had called them about. Dante glanced up at him as his brother leaned on the desk, tilting his head inquisitively. The Youngest Son of Sparda held the phone out so that they could both listen in.

“You wanted to talk to me, Magnolia,” Vergil said almost hesitantly, clearly out of his element talking to someone on the phone,” What is it?”

Magnolia sighed in relief, clearing her throat. “I may have bumped into that cult that everyone on TV keeps going on about. You’ve heard about them, I presume?”

Dante and Vergil glanced at one another. No. No, they had not. Dante didn’t exactly watch TV and Vergil had been, well, asleep for an entire day. There weren’t in the loop as far as current events were concerned. All they knew was that this storm didn’t seem to want to let up and that the naps had been in order. She seemed to glean her answer from their silence, shuffling slightly from the other end of the line. They both took a moment to think about her statement, not entirely sure yet as to if this turn of events should concern them.

“What about em,” Dante said nonchalantly,” Are they actually a threat?”

Magnolia nodded before considering the fact that they couldn’t possibly see her through the phone. “I believe that some of them, maybe. A few of them attacked me on my way to Fortuna,” She paused for a moment, thinking about the attack,” I couldn’t tell you how they pegged me as a threat. They had a summoner with them who presented a decent challenge. He managed to conjure a Kyklopse, but I made quick work of it. But that wasn’t the main reason for this phone call.”

The twins seemed to absorb the information given to them, Vergil seemingly more troubled than Dante though he wasn’t showing it. Kyklopse were native to Malet Island. How had this person managed to gain control of such a formidable and obscure demon? This didn’t bode well. As they thought in silence, Magnolia continued, conscious of the fact that they were listening intently.

“I’m at Nero’s house at the moment. Charming little place. I quite like it,” as if on cue, the children could be heard screaming in the background, Nico yelling something to them about piping down because an adult was using the phone,” Apparently your sons took an impromptu trip to Fortuna Castle in the Lamina Mountains. According to the lovely young ladies here, they were looking for something in the library? Either way, they’ve been there a couple of hours and haven’t returned. Everyone is worried, even the little lady who swears up and down that she isn’t.” 

Nico cursed at the statement.

Vergil looked visibly uncomfortable and Dante seemed about two seconds from bashing his head into his desk. They had both had occasion to visit that place and neither of them had particularly enjoyed their stays. It was probably the most dangerous castle in the human world that wasn’t located on Malet Island. Why on earth would they go there, especially with the condition that V was more than likely currently in? This could be very bad. Vergil leaned forward further, sighing slightly before continuing their correspondence. “And this is the part of this conversation where you inform me that that isn’t the worst part.”

Magnolia sighed too. Vergil could still read her like an open book, even from the other side of a phone. “Yes. That isn’t the worst part. I believe the cult may have followed me here. I arrived a short while ago and snuck here as discreetly as I could, but I saw another boat approaching from the distance as I arrived. I don’t believe that they are after me, but I have a feeling they may go snooping around the castle. Call it intuition, but why else would a cult with summoners in their ranks visit this island?”

Without speaking Vergil stood up and walked down towards the back door of the shop. He opened it and disappeared behind it. Dante glanced at him before turning back to the phone. “... I think we’re gonna have to call you back.”

With that, he hung up the phone and turned his attention back to his brother. Where the hell had he just gone?

-~-

Magnolia stood in the entryway of the house holding the wall-mounted phone in her hand, staring at it as the dial tone blared loudly. They would call her back? What the hell did they mean they would call her back?! There was no time for that! For all she knew, the cult could already be at the castle and both Nero and V could be in terrible danger. While she was certain that Nero could handle himself, V absolutely couldn’t fight right now. It could take a week or more for his powers to begin to trickle back in. If he possessed healing abilities, he would be lucky if they had kicked in by now.

After a moment she hung up the phone and turned around. Kyrie stood just a few feet away, her hands clasped and her posture entirely too at attention. She wore a pleasant smile, but anyone with any basic level of comprehension of human emotions could tell that she was scared. She smiled gently at the young woman for a moment. A few seconds passed like this, the two of them locked in this silent understanding. Kyrie couldn’t bring herself to ask this woman that she had barely just met for her help, but she could tell that she could handle herself. Magnolia walked over to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. She recognized what the young brunette with the large doe eyes was too afraid to ask.

“Don’t trouble yourself, dear,” She said in a firm, reassuring tone,” I’m going to go to the castle to see what they are up to. You just stay here and stay safe.”

Kyrie smiled wearily, unable to find the proper words for her relief. She didn’t know why, but the middle-aged woman before her made her feel safe. She opened her mouth to thank her but was stopped by a loud noise reminiscent of some kind of humming. A split second later, the front slammed open, bounding off of the wall. Although not quite hard enough to split the frame, it produced a loud, thundering boom that took the young woman by surprise, causing her to let out a terrified shriek. Nico scrambled down the hall, her hands clenched firmly around the neck of a lamp as the cord dangled uselessly. She had clearly just yanked it from the wall, desperate to come to her rescue. Magnolia glanced at her, her brow furrowing as she nodded to herself in approval. She liked this wily young lady. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in her.

The three ladies turned their gaze back to the door just as Vergil walked in, still in the process of sheathing Yamato. He had clearly left in a hurry as his hair was drenched from the rain. He’d made no effort to stay dry whatsoever. He looked grimly miffed and not at all in the mood for this. But, there was no anger in his demeanor. That couldn’t be a look of concern, could it? Magnolia shifted from the protective stance that she had taken and straightened her back, folding her arms. It was good to see that Vergil still took her seriously when she called him, even after all these years. It was rare that she needed to, but the fact that he had immediately shown up spoke volumes. She knew that he was aware of her capabilities. If there was a threat she didn’t feel comfortable taking on, he took it seriously.

Dante followed shortly after he, the look on his face somewhere between befuddlement and curiosity. He had never seen Vergil jump up and immediately race off to another location based solely on the testimony of another individual before. And he clearly took this potential threat seriously. Was it the mention of the Kyklopse that had irked him so thoroughly?

“... You were going to the castle,” He said rather bluntly, clearly ready to assess the situation for himself. Vergil was not the least bit pleased about this and it was very slowly starting to show.

Magnolia nodded, stepping forward to join him. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was just leaving. I didn’t expect you to come so soon,” She grabbed her coat off of the hook nearest to her and shrugged into it, flaring it out in order to adjust the fit,” I’d have you know, I’m out of practice. Haven’t been in a good fight for several years. I’m a healer now. Do keep that in mind?”

“How fortunate for his opponents,” Vergil thought to himself,” She could piece them back together after he diced them into bite-sized chunks.” He had no idea who this cult was, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that they needed to die and they were going to, especially if any harm came to either of his sons. While Nero was quite capable, it was rather difficult to launch an effective offense against an opponent with someone who was essentially helpless in close proximity. There had better be a good reason they had taken a trip to that godforsaken death trap, especially with V in the state that he was in.

The eldest Son of Sparda stopped for a moment to consider his somewhat irrational but fully warranted response. Was he actually worried about them? No, that was preposterous. Vergil, the Darkslayed, feared no one (well, virtually no one) but here he was, stymied by the concept of his two very capable children possibly being in harm’s way? Where had this sudden concern for their well being originated from? He would worry about that later. For now, he needed to know where they both were. Precisely where they were. And they needed to take care of this “cult”.

“It won’t matter in the slightest,” Vergil said as he glanced at Kyrie before turning to go back outside. He couldn’t help but notice her change in demeanor, much like Magnolia had,” They will be dealt with soon enough.”

Vergil descended the front steps and set off, expecting that they would simply catch up. He wasn’t going to wait for them and he wasn’t going to ask for them to follow him. The eldest of Sparda’s twin sons had spent a lifetime in the underworld. Vergil would make quick work of these cultists, with or without the help of his companions. Magnolia and Dante shared an acknowledging glance before he followed after him, jogging lightly to catch up with his brother’s brisk pace. Magnolia turned to Nico, stealing a glance in the direction of Dante and Vergil. She would have to catch up with them after their sudden departure.

“You there, with the lamp,” She said firmly.

Nico brandished the lamp before lowering it, not entirely sure what she planned to do with it now that she thought about it. Tiffany lamps were heavy, yes, but they required getting in close to be effective as a blunt force weapon. She wasn’t getting that close to a potential summoner with a demon. But she hadn’t thought of that at the time. She had simply acted in what she assumed to be the best interests of the people she had come to care about.

“Y-yes? Wadda ya need?” She fumbled over her words for a second, her slight embarrassment intensified by the acknowledgment of how ridiculous she looked in this moment. This woman probably thought she was certifiable.

“... as you were then, dear. Keep up the good work.” Magnolia said pleasantly. She nodded to her, reaffirming her statement. Nico stared at her like she’d lost her mind for a moment before nodding back. She now understood what the older woman was telling her.

“Don’t worry, miss,” Nico said with certainty,” Nothing’s gonna happen to anyone here under my watch. I'll keep em' safe.”

Magnolia nodded and turned towards the door, sauntering away. She stopped in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder in Nico’s direction. She smiled as she spoke. “Oh, I know you will dear. Of that, I have no doubt.”

With that she stepped out of the door, using her foot to push it closed as she went. As she stepped out into the rain, she noticed that Dante and Vergil were about a block ahead of her. She shook her head. They moved awfully fast, didn’t they? It was going to be quite the job to keep up with them. But then again, nothing having to do with Sparda’s descendants was ever easy. And she relished the excitement, although in the hopes that it would be short-lived. She had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this didn’t end up being any shorter than normal. LOL. Well, maybe like 100 words. How ironic. I guess that’s what I get for assuming I couldn’t hit my minimum word count with just a phone call scene. I’m kinda proud of myself. Toon in on Friday the 19th for chapter 16 and thank you as always for reading this chapter. We're all going through a lot right now, so it makes me happy to give you something to look forward to every week. Hopefully! And go listen to the song this chapter is named after. It’s good. There’s only one so it shouldn’t be hard to find. Take care, everyone!


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thanks for the comments as always! As mentioned, this chapter is a little shorter than normal, but the next few will more than make up for it. I just didn’t want to drag this sequence out so that we could get to the exciting part sooner. You don’t want to make things too bogged down. Enjoy and get hyped for the next chapter… It’s been a nightmare to write lol! Sorry for any mistakes. It was a long night.

Chapter Sixteen: Epiphany

-~-

Things had been relatively quiet for the last little while, Agnus’s alchemical monstrosities content with roaming the entryway aimlessly in almost total silence for the time being. While the magical seal on the door to the library and the three separate sets of retractable bars that shielded the doorway from further attacks were more than likely enough to keep the artificial demons at bay, there was still a certain amount of apprehension as to their current level of security. Considering the fact that the Cutlass and Gladius, much like the seal itself (presumably), were products of the Order and their unscrupulous experiments, their ability to gain entry into the room was questionable at the best. And a product of that uncertainty was a permeating sense of urgency in regardless to finding a relatively safe way out of Fortuna Castle before things escalated to a level that they couldn’t control.

As the silence in the air brewed tension between them, V glanced over his shoulder from the second story balcony. After Nero had helped him reach the upper section of the library, the younger devil hunter had retired to the far corner of the room, his attention fixed upon some sort of mechanical contraption. It was a welcome change, at least for the time being. While V was indeed flattered that Nero had been so worried about the laceration that he had received during their mad dash to reach the library, he wasn’t accustomed to having someone worry over him. It was touching; even somewhat flattering… but not something he was entirely comfortable with. V’s rational mind told him that this was normal, and he acknowledged it readily, more than able to comprehend the concept of platonic familial concern. But, despite the fact that he knew there was nothing abnormal about having Nero worry over him (especially when he had good reason too) he still couldn’t stand it.

The young summoner took a moment to mentally chastise himself for his illogical thought process. Of course he didn’t like it. He wasn’t supposed to. Having other people be concerned about him wasn’t meant to be an enjoyable process. He doubted that Nero enjoyed worrying about him either. Nothing about the situation that the pair of brothers currently found themselves in was comfortable or reassuring. In fact, from what the longer white-haired man could tell, they currently had no way of leaving the room that they were trapped in. It was a double-edged sword in that regard. Nothing in, nothing out; the only threat being the very thing that kept other threats at bay. It was quite ironic in an almost poetic sort of way. V couldn’t help but find humor in their possible damnation. While the bleeding from his injury had indeed slowed and was more than likely trivial in the eyes of proper medical care, they needed to actually leave the castle for first aid to take place. But in the meantime, he could simply count himself lucky. The demon that had dealt this wound was composed almost entirely of sharp edges. It was a miracle that he stood here now, reading these books in search of the answers he had inadvertently risked both of their lives for.

As V combed through the pages of the worn-out old book he held in his hand, his attention was drawn back to Nero. The younger of the two had just cursed quite loudly, clearly fed up with the piece of almost steampunk like piece of machinery he had been tinkering with for nearly an hour. V considered inquiring as to the nature of the problem, but relented, acutely aware that he more than likely had nothing insightful to add to the dilemma. It was odd for him to be so far out of the loop, but to say that he thought he knew everything would be a bald-faced lie. No one knew absolutely everything that there was to know. This just happened to be one of the rare instances where he had no idea what was going on. He redirected his attention back to the book, closing it and placing it back in its proper place on the bookshelf. While V was aware of the fact that there was no one else around to see him misplace it and that they were under more than a small amount of time pressure, he simply didn’t feel right just laying the book down somewhere. It wasn’t’ the right thing to do and that wasn’t who he was. He would find the time necessary to make sure that he left this place in at least the same condition that he had found it.

V walked down the row of bookcases in front of him, dragging his finger idly down the spines of the books as he went. At least half of the works contained in this room were not written in English, and many of the ones that were had been transcribed in very old classical English or by hand, making them a trial by fire to read. Much of it was in either Latin or Adamic; the former he had some basic comprehension of, the latter less so. Although his love of literature had lent him an excellent grasp of written languages, this was testing his skills somewhat more than he would like. As he glanced over the books in his search for one that he might be able to actually decipher, his finger brushed over the cover of a sizable tome. The words on the cover caught his eye, but the spine was somewhat faded. He would need to remove this one from the shelf and take a better look at it. 

Upon removing the tome from the self, he took notice of several qualities it possessed. The book was weighty and delicate, clearly one of the oldest texts in this library. The leather binding had held true for who knew how long, the paper quite aged and much more coarse than what he was accustomed to. Surprisingly elegant handwriting lined each page of the book, several detailed illustrations accompanied by even more meandering descriptions and instructions practically overflowed from each page. It was all quite fascinating to look at if he was being honest. Could he keep this book? Would anyone notice or even care if he took it home with him to give a more thorough examination? He flipped the pages carefully until he reached the cover. When he had first opened it, it had automatically gone to the middle of the book. This was presumably due to the way it had been bound, but that wasn’t entirely important at the moment.

“Dux Connexionem Referat Inferis” The title of the text flowed effortlessly from his mouth as he traced the words with his finger, taking a moment to try and remember what all the words meant,” Yes… this may prove useful after all.”

Nero glanced up from his position on the floor below, his focus still clearly on the Gyro Blade he was currently knelt down in front of. “You know what that says, V?”

V shrugged slightly as he flipped through what seemed to be an overview of sorts, introducing it’s audience to the different topics contained within its pages. The headings were all written with different mediums, signifying that they had been added gradually over the course of the writer’s lifetime. Oddly enough, the first few dozen pages did not contain the elegant script that he had seen in the middle of the book. Was this the work of multiple authors? After a moment he nodded to himself. Much to his enjoyment, this book contained information on the nature of familiar contracts and something else that seemed to pertain to artificial demons.

“I believe this may be some sort of encyclopedia or index. It makes mention of a Hellgate on an island that periodically changes location and a demon emperor,” He said as he turned the pages, his eyes fixed upon the writing they contained,” While I don’t think I have time to decipher this entire book just yet, it may have the answers I was looking for. There is some mention of Nightmare’s conception.”

Nero gestured to the empty room, laughing to himself slightly. Nightmare was one of his summons, right? How powerful did it need to be to get mentioned in a book that old? “Right now we have nothing but time. Unless I can get this stupid thing working,” Nero said as he gesured irritatedly towards the Gyro Blade,” We aren’t going anywhere. Does that book say anything about this thing?”

V used his finger to bookmark the page before turning back to the table of contents, taking a moment to look it over. After a moment, he shook his head. 

“It mentions something about an alchemical substance called Anima Mercury in this article about Quicksilver, but I can’t quite make out anything specific aside from the fact that they share similar properties,” He looked up for a moment, an incredulous look plastered across his face,” I don’t have any answers for you, unfortunately. Have you tried kicking it?”

The youngest descendant of Sparda stared at his older brother blankly for a moment, his neck craning sideways. Had V just told a joke at a time like this? No, surely he had just heard him wrong. He had to be mistaken. The eldest of the two seemed to key into his younger counterpart’s train of thought, gesturing with his outstretched hand towards the contraption in question. “I’m quite serious. Apparently this device is powered by kinetic energy. That is a stipulation of the Animal Mercury. It grants sentience, but not locomotion. If you have previously moved the device, then I can only assume that-”

Before V could finish his explanation, Nero drew Req Queen and slammed it downward towards the mechanical spinning top esque device before him, kicking it as he did so for good measure. The spinning blades within folded outward at the top and the machine lifted up off of the ground, hovering in place as if waiting for further simulation. Nero stared at it blankly as V looked down at him, clearly fascinated by now functional Gyro Blade. He could tell by the look on Nero’s face that he hadn’t expected the device to actually move.

Upon realizing that the device actually functioned, Nero took a few steps back and charged forward, launching himself feet first into the device. It rocked forward, crashing into the door of the library with a loud bang. The seal guarding the door shattered and the bars opened automatically, allowing them to finally exit the building. V slipped down from the upper level and landed on one of the floor dividers, gaining him a raised eyebrow from Nero and a thoroughly displeased side as his wound pulled slightly and he began to bleed a bit more. It was nothing catastrophic, but it was uncomfortable, to say the least. Nero offered him a hand and, after taking a moment to consider his alternative options, V decided to take him up on the offer, at least for the time being. In this particular instance, he was once again reminded of how much he missed his cane. It would be particularly useful at the moment. With that, the two of them exited the library, V taking a moment to tuck the book into one of the coat’s interior pockets. He would take the time to look it over more thoroughly once they were safely within the walls of Nero’s charming little home again.

They made their way down the balcony and back into the art gallery, noting the distinct lack of Cutlass and Gladius as they went. It was enough to raise an uncomfortable feeling within V, piquing his interest. While he could easily imagine that they had retreated, it was still very strange to see barely any traces of them. Their previous assault had been a sheer act of chaotic willpower, one that they had very narrowly overcome. It was imperative that they figure out where they had gone and either slip past them or use their combined problem solving skills to get the drop on them.

So basically they were going with plan A.

From the moment they stepped foot into the lobby, they were struck by the overwhelming silence that permeated the room. There were no demons in here like there had been a short while ago. Well, at least none that were alive. A pile of dead remnants was stacked in the middle of the first floor, a few stray demons scattered about. It seemed that they had been attacked all at once while a few outliers had actually noticed the threat and had tried to protect their collective to no avail. The Cutlass had been eradicated with ruthless efficiency, and the Gladius seemed to have tried to flee back into the labs before the attack had ended them once and for all. This was evident by the sheer number of them that laid dead on the stairs that led up to the opening to the lab behind the painting.

Something wasn’t right here…

As they reached the bottom of the steps and took a step towards the front entrance, V stopped a moment. He couldn’t tell if it was his general condition or his injuries, but he felt substantially weaker all of a sudden. It was as if all the energy had been sucked from his body in that very instant. Nero grappled the sudden shift in their collective center of balance, wrapping his right arm around V to try and help him steady himself. He clearly didn’t look well. A sudden noise from in front of them drew his attention, and what he saw took him off guard. About a dozen individuals in black coats had made themselves visible to them, presumably the people responsible for the dead demons that littered the room. One of them stepped forward, gesturing towards them.

“We’ve been looking for you.” The hooded man said as he lowered his hood to allow his hair to be freed and his face to become visible. “You’re quite hard to track down. It took us several days. Some sort of ward, I presume?”

Nero shot them a defensive look, glancing cautiously at V who seemed to be trying to shake off the sudden dizziness that plagued him. “Were not in a talking mood right now, so you’re going to have to forgive us but we’re not sticking around.”

The hooded individuals seemed incensed by the comment, taking defensive stances as though they were preparing to attack. The leader, the tall man from before, placed his hands in his pockets and stretched, seemingly unafraid. “Terribly sorry, I must not have been clear. Our master requires an audience with him.”

He gestured towards V, nodding. The taller of the two was starting to come out of his dizzy spell, so he looked up from the floor and shook his head in denial. There was absolutely no way either of them was going with these mystery men in black coats. They sounded just like the cult V had overheard Nero reassuring Kyrie about earlier that day.

Before either party could speak further, the front gate to the castle creaked open, and a familiar woman stepped inside. Before anyone could speak, she took a defensive stance, readying herself. The cultists turned their attention to her and several of them immediately began to call forth their summons. It seemed that this group was comprised of a much higher number of summoners than the one she had taken on at the pier. The three of them could only hope they were equally as competent.

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last few chapters are going to be FUN! I’m working on them as you are reading this, so feel free to tune in on Wednesday, June 24th as we reach the climax of book one! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter despite the fact that it’s slightly shorter than normal (about 500 words) and I look forward to seeing you all next week! Stay safe out there!


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Reawakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Wow. This had been a wild week. It’s lucky that I’m taking a two-week break after I finish this fic because my laptop decided to have issues. Again. FFS. I’m buying a Chromebook to write on after this. I use Google Docs anyway. I’m so done with this. I don’t care if they are not very powerful, I need something simple! But that’s not your issue. I don’t care if I have to finish this on my TABLET I am going to get through this. I just wanted to make everyone aware. This BS changes nothing. Now onto the story!

Chapter Seventeen: Reawakening

-~-

At this point, anything that crossed Vergil’s path was basically guaranteed a swift and painful death. They had taken no time at all to reach the castle, his brisk pace practically unrelenting, even from the moment they had stepped foot out of Nero’s house. Although it had been a while since any of them had been here, no one needed directions. Vergil knew that as long as he lived, the layout of this city (at least as it had been at the time of his original trip two decades ago) would be etched into the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t that he had spent any significant time here… it was who he had met. What few “pleasant” things he had experienced during his youth had recently returned to the forefront of his mind under the guise of trying to recall less complicated times in his life, and this was on the top end of that list. As they continued along their way, he took a moment to consider the fact that visiting this wretched place was somehow one of the highlights of his youth. 

Dreadful.

He needed to take a trip at some point for the sake of simply seeing something. Perhaps his troublemaking hellspawn could come along if they… no. His brow furrowed slightly as his mind wandered to darker outcomes. The possibilities as to ways they could meet their untimely ends here were staggering, but he refused to entertain any of them. Had he ruined a great many things during his youth? Of course. Was he to blame for countless mistakes. Absolutely. But this was not going to be one of them. And there would be hell to pay if anyone thought otherwise.

The moment they dropped down into Fortuna Castle’s ice field, a loud cracking, shimmering sound reminiscent of icicles creaking in the wind could be heard approaching from the foreground. Dante laughed to himself, drawing his blade from his back. Vergil placed his hand on his blade, entertaining the possibility of simply dispatching these demonic pests with his summoned swords alone. Nothing out here was worth his time as a general rule, but right now their mere existence was insulting to him. These useless creatures were not challenging enough to even consider obstacles, only serving as a stopgap in his route to more pressing matters.

“Well, I haven’t seen these things in a while,” Dante said as a group of frost approached from a distance, flanked by just shy of a dozen hell hounds.

Although Vergil concurred with his brother’s statement, he didn’t bother vocalizing. He simply nodded, drawing his blade as one of the frosts leaped towards him. He reached over his head and slashed downward, cleaving the hapless creature in two with one swift swing of the blade. Its brethren seemed to learn nothing from their fallen compatriot’s example, as two more rushed forward to attack them. Dante held his blade behind himself, watching as the blade glowed before slashing forward, sending a concentrated beam of red energy rocketing forward towards the demon. It annihilated the surprised creature, it’s partner jumping to the side to dodge the strike, Dante easily sidestepped it, drawing his shotgun and delivering a charged round to the creature’s face in retaliation before it had a chance to strike him. It tumbled uselessly through the snow as he rushed forward, uppercutting it into the air with his flaming gauntlets before drawing his blade again and slamming it down into the ground with devastating force. The youngest of Sparda’s twin sons would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he found this exhilarating. Then again, there was always a thrill to be found in a good fight. While this didn’t quite constitute as a “good fight” it was a decent warmup at the very least and he would be remiss to not become slightly excited by the opportunity to fight a species of demon he didn’t often encounter.

The hellhounds descended upon the group as the Frosts jumped back behind them, stalking the edges of the area waiting for an ideal moment for an ambush attack. The three of them sidestepped the creatures easily, making short work of them. Magnolia rushed forward and used her barrier spell to parry a blast from one of the hellhounds, knocking it back into the creature’s vulnerable body and destroying it upon impact. She rushed forward through them, her sights set on the entrance to the castle that loomed over the long metal bridge in front of her. This was not her first fight with Vergil, and any of them were capable of taking this particular group of demons in a fight easily, so she decided to redirect her efforts towards something that could benefit from her attention. While the twins would be just fine, she could guarantee the same thing for Nero and V. Their current condition was unknown, and she sought to fix that as soon as she possibly could.

“I think it’d be best if I went inside and looked for them,” Magnolia shouted over her shoulder as she sidestepped a hound on her way,” I’ll keep them safe! You have my word!”

Vergil nodded, offhandedly cleaving another two Frosts in half with his blade. While somewhat formidable in large groups, these lesser demons possessed little in the way of an actual threat and he was unconcerned with thim. That being said, he could make the time to take some of his pent up frustration out on them. Demons of this caliber tended to stalk their prey into different areas, and he didn’t need to be flanked from behind while dealing with a more potent threat. Allowing Magnolia to go ahead of them was a good idea, even if he didn’t feel entirely comfortable sending her in alone. There was no sure fire way of knowing all the risks and nothing about this situation was ideal.

Although Dante didn’t know her, he and his twin both shared the same confidence in her statement. But he also agreed that there was also no way of knowing what she could be going up against inside the walls of the castle. It was best that they get back to her as soon as they could. They both turned their attention back to the demons at hand. As she entered the front door, there was suddenly even more of a sense of urgency than there had been before. The potential for them to be able to fend off a threat as a group of three was much higher, but it also raised the possibility of friendly casualties. As capable as she was, Magnolia was still human, and V was basically helpless given the circumstances. Capable as he may be, Nero could only do so much at once, especially by himself while guarding another person. 

The twins needed to hurry.

The moment that Magnolia stepped into the castle and closed the door, another large wave of Hellhounds and Frosts rushed forward, launching an all out attack against them. The hapless hounds seemed to become increasingly frustrated every time either Dante or Vergil expertly side stepped them, charging forward only to meet their inevitable fate at the end of a smoldering shotgun round or the cold steel of a devilarm. The pair dodged and weaved through their attacks effortlessly, unfazed by the large numbers they were going up against. Their recent stint in the underworld (in relative terms, at least) and the lifetime of battles they had fought had more than prepared them for this.

For several minutes they utterly decimated their enemies, the Sons of Sparda dicing them into bite size pieces and filling them with buckshot. They stood back to back, dispatching each demon as it dared approach them. As Dante delivered a devastating uppercut to the final Frost and killed it upon impact, Vergil made quick work of the few remaining Hellhounds. He rained down a volley of Summoned Swords on the canines before cleaving the final hound in half as it made the mistake of leaping towards him. The flaming creature let out a final screech before dying and disolving into the snow. Vergil ran Yamato down the length of its scabbard before returning it to it’s sheath with a ringing click. He glanced over at Dante as his twin approached, about to suggest that they head inside the castle. But before either of them could say anything, the sound of a faint boom echoed from inside of the Castle. They both glance at one another before sprinting towards the castle door. 

Something was wrong.

-~-

Magnolia’s body ached as she slid backwards, knocking the wind out of herself as she slammed back first into a pillar. She was pouring sweat and slightly banged up from the strain that came from trying to withstand such a powerful attack. While she had managed to find V and Nero with practically no effort, the three of them were now in a much more precarious situation. In the blink of an eye, the dozen or so cultists had descended upon them, half of them unleashing their summons in a savage attack that was exceedingly difficult to combat. The only saving grace was that each of them seemed to only possess a single familiar, and while slightly more adept than the men she had fought at the docks, they were clearly amateurs playing with powers they couldn’t hope to understand. At most, they were pulling an entity from the underworld to fight on their behalf, but the demons owed their summoners no loyalty. No contract had been established. It was an act of desperation and everyone was a target.

Gasping for breath, she reached into the inside of her coat and pulled out a compressed metal tube, pressing a button on it to cause it to extend. As she spun the rod in her hands to become reacquainted with its center of balance, she stole a glance at Nero. He was busy trying to keep a small cluster of Sargasso and one very irate Nobody from reaching V, and he was doing relatively well considering the circumstances. This cult seemed to have a preference for Malet Island demons, and she found that curious. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired to lead to this moment. Everything about this just felt wrong and she needed answers once this was all over and done with.

One of the cultists approached her and she swung the rod, catching them square in the side of the jaw. They toppled to the floor, rendered thoroughly unconscious by the sudden strike. Magnolia smirked. The quickest way to deal with a summoned demon was to disable their summoner, as they could only manifest when their master was awake and able to give directions. She watched as Nero slammed downward into the Nobody, nearly cleaving it in two. V stumbled backward, dodging the monstrocitie’s attempt to take them with it as it died by detonating one of it’s own eyes. Nero then stepped forward and kicked one of the pews as hard as he could, sending it rocketing into a few of the remaining cultists. Magnolia closed the distance between them, using her free hand to blast the adjacent row (well, what was left of a row) of pews into the same cultists before knocking another upside the head and sending them crashing to the floor.

V took the moment of relative calm to rendezvous with Magnolia, more than a little aware that his presence was complicating things further and that perhaps the best place he could be at the moment was at the top of the stairs where he had a vantage point to see from. Magnolia and Nero flanked him from opposite ends of the room as he slipped along the bottom of the stairs, unable to effectively run due to his general lack of balance and his injured side. He felt thoroughly useless and he despised it, swearing to himself that he would find some way of being useful. Just as his foot touched the top stair, the pile of kicked over pews plasted into several directions, ricocheting off of the pillars and walls causing wooden shrapnel to fly in every direction. The trio ducked to avoid the large peices of flying wood, Nero not being quite as lucky. One of the larger pieces slammed into him, knocking him down as he cursed loudly from the pain.

“Are you hurt,” V asked, taking a few steps towards him, a concerned tint to his voice.

Nero clambered to his feet, hissing under his breath as he rubbed his side slightly. Nothing was broken from what he could tell, but he was sure that he’d have a nice bruise come morning. Who the hell were these crazy demon wielding bastards and what did they want with V? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. “Yea, I’m fine. What about you guys?” 

V and magnolia nodded, despite the fact that they were probably worse off at the moment than he was. At that moment, five of the cultists seemed to be regaining their senses, dragging themselves to their feet in an overeager bid to try and reignite the fight. Their leader stepped forward, brushing himself off. The dark haired man looked thoroughly pissed even though he was making an effort to try and seem calm and menacing. 

“I’m going to give you one last chance to turn him over to us,” he said sternly as he fixed his coat, eyeing V directly to add further emphasis to his point,” Our master isn’t used to taking no for an answer.”

If the man’s intention was to intimidate the longer haired man, it failed miserably. V took a step forward, edging closer to the top of the railing. He had no intention of simply giving himself over to these mysterious people. It didn’t matter if he had to take one of these standing candle holders and impale them with it. This wasn’t going to end the way these cultists wanted it to.

“Then your master is going to have to learn to deal with disappointment, because I’m not going with you,” V said flatly, clearly unamused by anything that had transpired in the last little while. Whatever this insidious cult of summoners wanted with him, he wasn’t interested in. The fact that they were so quick to resort to violence spoke volumes in that regard. Should they have been less quick to try and harm his companions, he might have humored them for a moment. As little as he enjoyed conversation, he was not opposed to listening. But he did possess a negative disposition towards having his hand forced, especially by total strangers. He wasn’t going to take this lying down.

The man didn’t respond. Instead the air became statically charged. A ominous black mist filled the room as golden sparks rolled along the surface of the walls, wrapping themselves around the pillars before dying down to a faint but still present pulse. A supernatural breeze blew through the room, clearly not originating from inside of the structure as all the doors were currently closed. V glanced around the room tenitavely in a tense search for answers. His lack of experience with this place and it’s native demons made this veil of darkness extra unsettling to him. He stole a glance in Nero’s direction as he revved his trusty blade, clearly readying himself. He placed it back onto his back and drew his gun, charging it in preparation for something that V couldn’t identify. Magnolia glanced around the room with her weapon drawn as well, seemingly just as unsure as to what was happening as V was. The cultists had drawn back into the mist to allow their leader to handle the situation, and he already seemed to be more capable than they had been.

While V anlyzed the situation, Magnolia made the fateful decision to step towards V. As she drew near, she stopped suddenly and started in total silence into the mist before gasping and grabbing him, practically throwing him out of the way. V let out a startled breath as he managed to catch him on the top stair, turning his head towards her to enquire as to what on earth she had done that to him for. They had never met or spoken prior to this encounter, but he presumed that this was the mysterious Magnolia that Nero had mentioned so much about prior to their arrival.

“Why did-” V never got the chance to finish asking his question. 

In the middle of his sentence a spectral set of ten glowing violet red claws that had to be half as long as he was extended from seemingly nowhere and shattered Magnolia’s barrier and embedded themselves into either side of her body before lifting her and tossing across the room. She cried out as she tumbled across the room and crashed into the floor, coming to a stop just a few feet from Nero. She slammed into one of the few remaining pews and took several pained breaths before closing her eyes and going totally limp, her breathing turning shallow as she passed into a semi conscious state. 

Nero glanced as he leaned over to give her a gentle but anxious shake as he fired a charged round into the intangible demon’s back. Those claws belonged to a Faust, one of the last demons he expected to see here today. The large hovering demon materialized and screeched, hurling itself at him. He managed to side step at and fired several more rounds into the creature as it began to lower it’s self closer to the ground. Once it was vulnerable, he removed Red Queen from her holster and charged at it, slamming into it with a volley of flames and scalding steel. It regained its stability and launched itself into the air before disappearing entirely. Just as suddenly as it had arrived, the smoke began to dissipate. But the calm eas short lived

V had scrambled to his feet during the excitement, eager to find cover or something he could use to defend himself. The electricity that had accompanied the now dissipating smoke reappeared, this time with a ferocity and strength that it had not possessed before. V withdrew his hand from the rail and stepped towards the middle of the top of the stairs in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the high voltage. A thick streak of vibrant electrical energy darted from the corner of the room nearest to the gallery door and zigzagged from side to side, going back and forth between each of the banisters. He tried to follow it with his eyes, but couldn’t quite make out the source until it fully materialized. In the blink of an eye (or perhaps faster) a large electricity coated demon leaped at him, claws at bared and ready to strike. V barely managed to leap out of the creature’s path, but it did him very little good. The entity landed feet first against the wall and immediately redirected itself towards him, managing to take him off guard as he was attempting to regain his balance from his sudden dodge. The last thing he remembered seeing was the sight of the Blitz clocking itself in a layer of electricity before it catapulted itself into him with bone shattering force. He careened down the steps, slamming into each step as the breath left his body and he rolled to a stop against the cold stone floor. He had been unconscious long before he had made his landing.

When he opened his eyes, everything was black again. V was silent for a moment, somewhere between alarm and disbelief. He was in this dreadful place again?! There was no time for this. He moved around more frantically this time than in his prior visit, grasping for any way to make his exit but failing immediately. A hybridized version of a growl and a huff escaped his lips as he covered his hands with his face, shaking his head in frustration and anxiety. He had no idea how time passed in this place, but he knew he had already spent too much of it here.

“If you have no intention of helping me, then release me. There are pressing matters that I must attend to,” The irritation and desperation in his voice were as clear as this place was dark and hopeless.

Black tendrils erupted from the ground and wrapped themselves around his torso and arms individually, not so much holding him captive as they were holding him still. The grip was firm but not constricting, familiar to him in a way he couldn’t quite place but that bothered him from lack of recognition. The skin on his body began to tingle in a manner that was reminiscent to how he had felt when he had awakened in his bedroom this morning. Surely enough, when he glanced down the markings from his former familiars were glowing as they had that morning, aside from Nightmare’s. He obviously couldn’t see his own back, but he couldn’t feel the same sensations that he felt on his torso, chest, neck, and extremities. He closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly, thinking.

When he had first met his familiars, he had agreed to form a contract with them out of a lack of other options but had grown to enjoy their presence after a while. They had fought valiantly in their attempts to protect him, but in the end they had all been victims of circumstance; unwilling yet unwavering participants in a game far more profound than their own lives. And as he stood there encased in what had to be darkness itself, he felt understood and accepted in a way he couldn’t place words to. A wave of nostalgia and penetrating loneliness hit him as he exhaled slowly. He didn’t know how he knew, but this place was linked to his former demonic pets, and he was ready to admit that he needed them right now. Perhaps asking would facilitate the response that he was hoping for?

V sighed and adjusted his posture as much as he possibly could before looking up. Or what he assumed to be “up”. He honestly couldn’t tell and didn’t care. It was worth a shot, wasn’t it? It couldn’t hurt to try. 

“I can only assume that this,” V gestured by tugging at the tendrils,” Is your doing. We’ve met before. I think that’s why I keep ending up here, isn’t it? Because you want to help me.”

The air became statically charged as if in response to his question. V nodded. He felt like he might be getting somewhere. Possibly. The tendrils loosened slightly, but he didn’t move. He remembered that he had to consent to the contract with Griffon before. Maybe they needed his permission? He found it ironic that there was a guidebook to this sort of thing in his back pocket but he couldn’t read it. It would prove invaluable in this situation. V sighed, at his limit for being here. There was no time for this. He hadn’t come all this way just to perish senselessly a second time.

“... I need your help. Again. If this is truly you, then I don’t think I need to elaborate. I have a talent for landing myself in troublesome situations, but this is different. I don’t know if I’ll survive this fight without you.” 

He closed his eyes and hung his head solemnly. “... Please help me. I desperately need you.”

V jumped slightly as he felt the sensation of something akin to hot water run down the upper half of his body. It drenched him but he remained totally dry, aside from the places where the glowing marks on his body had been. The black substance clung to them, filling in like some sort of a stencil being filled in with the darkest shade of graphite imagenable. The tendrils dissolved and converted themselves into the last of the liquid before everything grew dark. He stood there breathing heavily as the result of the sudden wave of weakness that had overcome him, the burden of his former power taking a momentary toll that he hadn’t anticipated. With every monocrom of the power that returned to him, he felt more hazy, but he wouldn’t allow that to stop him.

He collected himself and closed his eyes to take in a much needed moment of silence. He was ready to leave this place. And there would be hell to pay for those who had forced his hand yet again. As soon as he figured out a way to leave this place, this cult was going to regret the day they had made the decision to attack a descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda.

-~-

Vergil had precisely no idea how things had escalated to this degree, but he wasn't pleased in the slightest by what he saw before him. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt in this moment. Snow blew in from behind him as he stood in the open doorway to Fortuna Castle, but even literal ice was warmer than the chill he felt trickle down his spine as he took in the predicament that he and his twin brother had just walked themselves into. The eldest Son of Sparda could almost literally feel parts of his body freeze solid as he took in the chaos that unfolded before him. He hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped the moment he’d seen V lying prone on the floor a few dozen yards away, clocked in the remainder of some sort of smoke that he didn’t see the source of. Dante had immediately jumped into the frey, providing Nero the backup that he sorely needed against the dozen or so different demons he was somehow holding his own against. 

Even with the dissipating mist in the air making things difficult to see clearly, he could tell that V was in a bad way. He made his way across the room, not really registering any of his surroundings aside from the hapless summoner that made the mistake of trying to attack him. He drew Yamato and dispatched them quicker than they could even regester what had happened to them, and then returned his focus to what actually mattered to him in this moment. The wantin and merciless bloodshed would have been met with a less than positive response, (or at least a raised eyebrow or two) but no one noticed due to the litany of opponents that they were up against. 

The second he reached V’s unconscious body, he knelt down at his side to assess his condition. He paused for a moment, his hand lingering over V’s body. Vergil found himself trapped between the overwhelming desire to know if his son was alive and the criping, all consuming worry that came from the knowledge that he very well might not be. The fact that he knew that at least one of his children was alive should’ve provided him a grim respite, but he found himself overcome by a level of anxiety he hadn’t felt in an immeasurably long time. This was a source of concern that he’d never experienced before; the concept of his inability to protect his own children resulting in their death something that he’d never given lingering thought to. It was forengn to him and utterly devastating in it’s scope. He clenched his teeth subconsciously before developing the resolve necessary to force himself to check on his son’s well being.

Vergil leaned over him and hesitantly rested the back of his hand against V’s exposed throat. The knot in his stomach loosened considerably when he realized that despite the fact he couldn’t feel his oldest son’s pulse, he noticed that he was breathing when his breath ghosted across the sleeve of his coat. While that didn’t account for his actual physical well being, he knew that he was alive at the very least, and that was reassuring to him. As he retracted his hand, he was taken by surprise by V as he coughed harshly and lurched forward, gasping harshly for breath as though he had just been plunged into freezing waters.

V rubbed his face with his hands as his breath evened out before turning to look in Vergil’s direction. Despite the fact that his eyes were closed, he could feel the presence of another person near him. When he saw Vergil he froze in place, unsure of how to react to his presence. The very last thing he expected to see was his estranged father. This day was full of surprises, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to take the vast majority of them. V closed his eyes for a moment before sighing and deciding that he would have to sort this situation out at a later date. This was not the time or the place to have any sort of discussion. He glanced over at the battle that was occurring on the other side of the room. Nero and Dante had the situation more than under control. The cult leader seemed to be edging towards the door, more than likely preparing to make a break for it since it was apparent that his compatriots were now fighting a losing battle.

He had just found his target.

There was no way that he was allowing this deranged maniac to escape.

As he clambered to his feet, he was reminded of his less than ideal state. His head throbbed, there was an unpleasant soreness in his chest, the cut on his side felt more raw and torn than ever, and he could practically feel the imprint of the stone stairs in his back from when he had tumbled down them a few minutes ago, but he was still alive and he could suppress his discomfort until his work was finished. This wouldn’t be the first time he had forced himself to swallow his pain and work against his well being in order to complete a task. Not by a long shot. 

V tugged his sleeve down and sure enough, his tattoos had returned. In an action that was practically second nature by now, he expanded his consciousness and called forth his familiars. With an ear shattering roar, Shadow materialized from the floor, ready to do her master’s bidding. She paced the room eagerly as Griffon surged forward, depriving V of the remainder of his tattoos and he fluttered around the room laughing wildly. He landed on V’s shoulder a moment later, fluffing himself.

“Well, if it isn’t Shakespear! It’s about time! And just when I was about to start taking bets on how long it was going to take you to figure out how the Nightmare dimension worked. Guess I owe Nightmare a drink,” Griffon was clearly thrilled to death with himself. He wasn’t making the slightest effort to hide that. “So, who’s the unlucky schmuck who’s getting an ass full of lighting today?!”

V repressed the urge to roll his eyes, shaking his head as he chortled at the statement. He was likely never going to admit it, but he’d missed this mouthy bird. It was a welcome change to have him back. He smirked and rolled his hand playfully in the direction of the cult leader. “That guy.”

Griffon twirled off of his shoulder and launched up into the air, discharging a sphere of lighting as he leveled out. “Consider it done, beanpole,” Griffon said sarcastically as he took off towards the individual V had pointed out,” Come on Shirly, we have work to do!”

Shadow snarled and chased after Griffon as he flew off to assess their target. V stole a quick glance at Vergil that quickly converted itself into a lingering stare. He had an unreadable look in his that indicated that he wasn’t thrilled to see his familiars again, but he sighed and unsheathed Yamato nonetheless. He glanced over at V and nodded as to excuse him before turning his attention towards the cultist. They were in for a world of hurt now that his concern had subsided and been replaced by seething rage. Vergil felt a powerful need to stab something right now, and he had plenty of targets to choose from. V watched him surge forward and impale one of the cultists before turning his attention back towards his familiars. They had several unpleasant and uncomfortable conversations ahead of them. It was inevitable. But right now they needed to fight. And V was eager to see how a battle against another summoner would turn out. With Dante, Vergil, and Nero handling the remaining cultists and their summons, he had plenty of time to focus on their leader. They each had their own battles to fight.

V glanced down at the ground and found a piece of a broken standing candelabra, opting to bring it with him. There was no harm in having a physical weapon with him, even if it was just a two foot long segment of a brass rod. He wanted answers and he was going to get them, one way or another.

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAH!! I’m sorry that this chapter is several hours late! Due to the pandemic, I can’t fix my pc at the moment, so I spent a while fighting with Google Docs today. I then sat here all day and had to type this entire chapter (which was 5,800+ words!) ON MY TABLET. It was a nightmare, but I got it done and I’m starting the next chapter sharpish. A lot happened in this chapter, and I can’t wait for you guys to get to read the battle in the next entry on Friday! Thanks a ton for your ongoing support! I’m going to get this pc situation sorted out ASAP for all our sakes. I look forward to reading your comments and I loved the ones last week! Sorry for any errors that slipped through. It’s tricky to edit and type on a touch screen device. Have a wonderful day and stay safe out there! See you soon!


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Zenith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I went shopping for a Chromebook today. I keep telling myself that I can just tough it out on this tablet, but after that last chapter, I don’t know. Guess I’ll find out by the end of this chapter. Thank you all for your amazing comments and the overall excitement and positive reception the last chapter received. It was arduous to write, but knowing you guys liked it as much as you did really made it all worth it!

Chapter Eighteen: Zenith

-~-

The cultists clearly hadn’t expected things to take such a rapid and unfavorable turn for the worse. They had been struggling to hold their own in a battle against Magnolia and Nero, but the edition of Sparda’s twin sons had turned this into a very one sided battle, even if the odds were still six against three. Well, more like twelve against three when you factored in the summons that each of them commanded. Between the six of them they possessed two Nobody, a Sin Scissor, several Sargasso, a Kyklops, and a Plasma. It was a veritable who's who of creatures that Vergil had never wanted to see again, and it felt like someone had custom curated a catalog just to unnerve him. For that crime alone he was fully prepared to kill every single cultist in this building. This entire situation reeked of Malet Island, and he despised that with every fiber of his being; every synapse in his brain firing for the sole purpose of conjuring up new ways go decimage his foes. 

He was going to get to the bottom of this once this was all over.

There were several talks he needed to have with V…

A Nobody rushed forward, flailing wildly as it attempted to grab Nero around the waist and plow him into the ground. The younger man jumped sideways out of its path, twisting the throttle on his blade as he sent an upward arching slash into the unintelligent demon that sent it staggering back as it’s mask shattered into pieces. It stopped for a moment before manifesting one of it’s large, pulsating eyes and throwing it in his direction. Dante shot the eye and the resulting explosion caused two of the nearby Sargasso to crack slightly, their weak bodies not well suited to such attacks. One of them made the mistake of lunging forward and trying to bite Dante in retaliation but swiftly regretted the decision if it was capable of higher thought as he charged his flaming gauntlets and delivered a devastating uppercut to the creature, spiraling up into the air. He whipped out Ebony And Ivory, showering the group of floating skulls with concentrated gunfire, his demonic power infused into the rounds for additional damage.

Upon landing, the now enraged Kyklops dug its feet into the stone floor and fired a large chunk of stone at Dante. As he moved to deflect it, a familiar sonic boom fired off as Vergil destroyed the hulking shard of stone before spinning around and impaling one of the cultists. They had made the mistake of trying to run at him with a piece of broken glass. As they dropped dead to the floor, so did the remainder of the Sargasso, unable to remain in this plain of existence without a master to act as an anchor for them. The Sin Scissor surged forward, attempting to cut Nero in half. He ducked underneath it, turning around and leaping towards it to deliver a powerful downward strike that shattered it’s larger spectral shears. It attempted to block him, entering a deadly spin in a play at eviscerating him. Another skillful sidestep was immediately succeeded by a succession of rapid, merciless slashes that shattered the demon’s remaining blade into shrapnel. The intangible beast cried out in rage, it’s mask bleeding. Nero shook his head playfully before delivering one final shot to its face, successfully shattering it’s mask and ending it’s miserable existence. As he holstered his gun, half of one of the pews rocked across the room and slammed into the cultist nearest to him, crushing him between the stone pillar and the jagged wood. Nero winced and shook his head slightly, relatively sure that that had been Dante’s handiwork. Ouch. But at least they were rid of that scissor wielding bastard. He’d had more than enough of things that could fly through walls for one day.

Just as he was turning around to locate another target, the Kyklops screamed in pain as Vergil dropped a volley of summoned swords on it, impaling it in several dozen parts of his body. It’s open mouth was it’s primary weak spot, which was unfortunate for it considering how wide open it was at that moment in time. Dante took the opportunity to fasten his two trusty rocket launchers together, funneling demonic energy into them as he delivered an explosive charged attack to the demon’s gaping maw. The Kyklops emitted one last agonized cry as the blast tore through it, shattered the pillar behind it, and into the cultist that was using it for cover. They both fell dead for the floor, no longer a threat if they could have been considered a threat in the first place. The remaining cultist and his Plasma were now all that was left of the foot soldiers.

Learning nothing from the example his peers had just set for him in their untimely deaths, the remaining cultist ordered his Plasma to attack, the blue humanoid demon shooting his eye beam in an ark across the room in an attempt to mow the descendants of Sparda down. Nero dived for cover behind the rubble created from a falling pillar as Dante swung his charged blade at the demon, sending several beams of deadly red energy at it. Vergil teleported out of the beam’s path, arching into a ferocious aerial dive that the demon nearly managed to dodge. Unfortunately for it, Nero delivered a well placed charge shot directly into its laser eye as it was in the process of charging up a second shot. No opportunity to vocalize it’s pain was afforded to it as Vergil cleaved the glowing blue demon into halves, spinning around to deliver an unnecessary but deserved series of horizontal slash to it’s torso. He then twirled Yamato before dragging it along its scabbard, slowly easing it into place with a deliberate click that sent the creature calling to the floor in a series of small segments. The pile of spectral remains melted away as the cultist charged them, seemingly in the process of conjuring a second demon. Vergil gave him a dismissive glance before harpooning him with another well placed volley of summoned swords. Just as he did so, a long metal rod flew from across the room and impaled him, sending him careening forward in obvious shock and pain. The man groaned before slumping over dead in the pile of ectoplasm that now served as the remains of his summoned Plasma. And with his demise, the room fell silent.

Nero turned in the direction the rod had flown from and craned his head to the side, somewhat surprised by what he saw. “Magnolia?! Oh shit, you're alive!”

Vergil turned at the mention of her name, only now regretting that he had not taken her absence into account. He had been so caught up in what was going on that he hadn’t taken the time to look for her. That was unlike him, but he knew she didn’t mind. Magnolia had never been the type of woman who wanted to be worried over, even when she needed the supervision. She was leaned against one of the pillars, her arms wrapped around her torso in obvious discomfort. They shared a long, quiet look before he nodded in understanding, stepping away and turning towards the open front door to the castle. No one had bothered to close it during their confrontation, so snow was blowing in from outside. It would have been relaxing if not for the scene unfolding just beyond it.

Nero stepped towards her but she lifted her hand slightly to waive him off, letting out a wet cough. “I’ll live, Love. You should go after your father…”

Nero and Dante turned their attention to Vergil. Or rather, when Vergil had been standing just moments ago. He was nowhere to be seen. Despite the fact that neither of them had seen him leave, Dante had a feeling he knew exactly where he had gone.

-~-

The Blitz rushed forward at the command of it’s master, the leader of the cultists clearly more adept at controlling his summons than his compatriots. As it gained speed in an attempt to charge V and nail him into the ground (figuratively and literally) it was stopped dead in its tracks as Shadow morphed into a series of sharp, upward facing spikes, impaling the demon and dragging it to a halt. Griffon swooped downward, maneuvering with expert precision through the wall of dangerous obstacles as he spun and collided with the Faust that accompanied the rival summoner. He made brief contact before passing through it, circling back around to try and relocate his target.

“Damn it! How do you expect us to hit something that’s made of smoke, V?” He inquired sarcastically. 

There was a measure of actual validity to his question, but there was far too much going on for the white haired summoner to really answer that. At present, V was in the process of trying to keep up with the cult leader’s location. He had a clear and vested interest in fleeing the scene, seemingly aware that his summons stood no chance against V and his companions. Try as he might, he simply did not possess the level of cooperation, polish, and communication with his familiars that V did. He did not have their loyalty. He had simply reached into the underworld and dragged them here against their will. The two creatures would just as soon kill him themselves if their presence here didn’t directly tie into him staying alive.

V sidestepped what would have otherwise been a deadly attack from the Faust as he refocused his attention on the Blitz. The electric demon seemed to be charging up some sort of attack. The spiked beams that extended from Shadow’s back impaled the Faust, causing it to redirect its attention towards the demonic panther. It slashed at her to no avail as Shadow relocated herself, snatching V out of the path of the Blitz’s electric beam. The second he recentered his balance, he pointed towards the thunder coated menace, intent on keeping it pinned down. While the Faust was indeed a sizable threat, this creature was much harder to keep up with. So long as it was immobile, he could deal with it. Although it didn’t seem to want to take any sort of meaningful damage from their attacks.

Griffon glowed brightly as he swooped downward towards the Faust, his iridescent blue wings discharging a deadly wall of electricity. He then immediately flew down towards the ground and armed a trap, placing a sphere of electricity that two beams extended from. They cut across the space in a wide arch, cutting into both demons as Shadow swiped her long, razor sharp tail at the Blitz, morphing into a mouthful of spikes. She roared and clamped onto her electric nemeses, shattering it’s well armored hide. The creature roared and emmeted an eerie red glow. The mouthy bird flanked V, grabbing him and yanking him from the demon’s path as it charged at him at a speed that was somehow more frantic than it had been before.

“... Something’s not right.” V observed as she landed, his eyes locked on the now red streak that zipped around him. The summoner had never encountered this type of Demon before, but he had a bad feeling about this. Griffon schofield as if to attest to how obvious the statement was before turning his attention to the cultist. They needed to know where he was at all times.

The cult leader dashed past them, headed towards the remains of the staircase and tower. V started after him, cursing himself internally as a few stray drops of his blood splattered against the one pristine snow. He didn’t have time to focus on his mild discomfort. He needed to stop him from getting away. This man was far too dangerous to allow to escape. Griffon swooped past him homed in on the man, slamming into his back and sending him careening towards the ground. He tumbled and rolled before coming to a stop against the edge of a work. As V approached he slid to a stop, dismounting Shadow and allowing her to stalk closer to their target. Before he could move even an inch closer, the Blitz appeared before him, flashing a frantic red. V had no idea how he came to the conclusion that he did, but he immediately stepped back and summoned his trusty bird, allowing Griffon to snatch him out of harm's way as the demon screamed and detonated. The blast knocked him back through the air, sending him crashing through one of the frozen pillars. 

He coughed as he sat up and attempted to assess the situation, immediately coming to the conclusion that the other summoner had met his end at the hands of his own familiar. The amount of blood spoke for itself. V sighed in relief before pulling himself to his feet. Although bruised and mildly wounded, he was somehow still alive. And he couldn’t wait to get out of this freezing weather. As much as he enjoyed snow, he didn’t want to be in this seemingly cursed place any longer. A quick check of his back pocket confirmed that the book was in fact still there. It’s condition would have to be assessed at another time.

As he took in the gravity of his situation, Griffon fluttered over and landed on his shoulder, preening himself. Several of his feathers had been knocked out of alignment during the excitement. He used his wing to gesture in the direction of the castle, adjusting an out of place feather. “Looks like we have company, poetry boy!”

V glanced in the direction of the castle only to find Vergil approaching from a few feet away. They exchanged a tense stare as Nero and Dante joined them, the later of the two helping an exhausted looking Magnolia along. He didn’t seem upset, but his expression was basically unreadable. The both of them could probably use medical attention, though he was willing to wager that she was slightly worse off than he was after what he’d seen happen to her earlier. Vergil lanced between the two of them before exhaling and looking him up and down. V got the impression that he was trying to access any damage in lieu of simply asking him if he was alright. He’d come a long way, but he wasn’t quite there yet when it came to vocalizing his concerns.

Vergil stepped forward and withdrew Yamato, creating a criss cross in the air before stepping to the side and glaning out of the corner of his eye at V and Nero. Although neither of them said anything about it, for a moment they both thought that Vergil actually looked somewhat… relieved to see them. But they collectively set their thoughts aside and approached the portal. They needed to leave this place before things got any worse.

-~-

V sat on the front steps of the Fortuna hospital, quietly reflecting. He’d insisted that they see to Magnolia’s wounds before dealing with his own, something that seemed to cause Vergil no small level of discomfort despite his lack of vocal input. The events that had just transpired during the last few days had been a blur of discomfort and danger, and he still had yet to truly take in how improbably everything truly was. He had so many questions and so few answers. And now there were possible threats out there that he hadn’t considered before. It was all very… overwhelming.

After a moment, Vergil approached him, seemingly unsure as to what he should do with himself. There was no way that he was going to sit next to him, despite the fact looming over him was arguably even more uncomfortable. After almost a full minute of uncomfortable silence, Vergil took the hit and sat down, albeit several feet away. V twiddled his fingers anxiously. He hadn’t the slightest idea what to say to his father. They had never really talked to another before, yet there was seemingly endless amounts of history between them. Most of it wasn’t exactly positive considering the circumstances, but still.

Vergil glanced over at him quietly, at a similar loss for words. V’s silence did confirm something for him, however. “... Nero told you, then?”

V considered his response for a moment before nodding quietly, still not quite making eye contact with Vergil. He glanced down at his hands, clasping them together but making an effort to not come off as anxious as he actually was. He didn’t truly understand the source of his anxiety, but it was there nonetheless. He would simply have to work through it. “... Yes… Yes, he did.”

They fell silent again, this time more so as a result of Vergil’s inner conflict than V’s inability to make smalltalk. It hadn’t escaped his notice that V had made a contract with his former Nightmares. At present, he didn’t entirely know how to take this revelation. Though V seemed to have a strong bond with them, the idea of his burdens passing so literally to one of his children troubled him. It seemed that his mistakes and regrets were destined to affect his sons, regardless of his good intentions. But the idea of him doing this voluntarily was beyond him. For him, they were simply products of things he wanted to move beyond. Reconciling this would take a very long time, if it was possible at all. While a part of him was relieved to be free of the burdens of his past, he wasn’t surprised that remnants of his past folly still remained, affecting those around him.

He decided to change the topic. There were larger issues to deal with right now than his feelings towards his oldest child’s decisions, especially when his own mistakes had directly influenced or caused many of them. This cult needed to be dealt with. He needed to know who they served before this escalated any further. If they had found V once, who was tk say they couldn’t do it again? He had the feeling they hadn’t gotten rid of them all just yet. Things in his life were never quite that simple.

“I get the impression that this isn’t over,” V said quietly, attempting eye contact from underneath his fringe. It was slight, but it was still enough to draw Vergil’s attention,” This is only the beginning.”

Vergil nodded, standing up and taking a few steps towards the sidewalk. He would have to check in on Magnolia tomorrow. The doctors were optimistic. He stopped a few feet away, glancing over his shoulder to check on V. The younger man was watching him quietly from his position on the stairs, seemingly considering their conversation. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“... We should head back,” Vergil said quietly, more or less at a loss of more profound things to say,” ...Are you coming with me?”

The young summoner nodded a few times before carefully standing up, soreness, lethargy, and fatigue settling in. He was becoming more and more exhausted by the moment. The prospect of receiving a restful night’s sleep after eating more of Kyrie’s scrumptious cooking was very appealing. He made his way down the stairs, being mindful not to trip and fall. He wasn’t eager to reopen his wound after it had finally stopped bleeding. The bandage that covered it was doing an admirable job. He joined his father and they headed off without a word, an uneasy peace settling over them. They would need each other’s help to find the answers they were both searching for. But for now, they were going to head home. Kyrie was supposedly making a pie for dessert, and neither of them were willing to miss that. Cult be damned.

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapter is a little late tonight. Honestly, I dozed off after spending all of last night working on it. There’s quite a learning curve to writing on a tablet. IT TAKES FOREVER. But it’s okay because we only have one more chapter to go before book two starts! I look forward to seeing you all again on Wednesday for the conclusion of this fic and so I can tell you what’s going to happen from here on out! And as always, sorry for any errors! Thank you for sticking with me this long. I’m genuinely touched by all the support you continue to give me. Have a great day!


	20. Epilogue:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: All notes will be at the end of this chapter besides this note because that’s just how I feel today. Thank you all for tolerating my eccentricities and for reading this story. The end notes will be very important though, so please read them. You guys are the best!

Epilogue:

-~-

The next morning around 7 am…

The storm’s intensity had seemingly faded during the night. Though rain still fell in an unending torrent, the barbaric winds that had once rattled the windows of the streets of Fortuna had subsided and the lightning had ceiced. While thunder was still an occasional occurrence, it was much less disruptive and nowhere near as powerful as it had once been. The roads remained flooded for the time being, but people could once again be seen taking to the streets to perform basic tasks such as shopping and maintenance. All in all, things were starting to look up slightly, the metaphorical and literal dark cloud that had been lowered over the region finally letting up a little.

V was awakened by the unfamiliar sensation of sunlight making contact with his body. When they had returned home the night before, he had been utterly exhausted and remembering to close the curtains had been very low on his list of priorities. A low rumbling purr pulled at the edges of his consciousness, inviting him to fully regain his senses. The young summoner turned his head away from the sunlight slightly, fully aware that Shadow was taking a snooze on the floor beside him. 

He sat up and stretched his arms over his head, cursing himself silently as a dull throb crawled through his lower abdomen. He hadn’t been awake enough at that moment in time to remember his injuries from the night before. V winced slightly and clambered to his feet, keying into the sound of several voices coming from the other side of the door. Things had been relatively quiet a moment ago. What had changed that so suddenly? V carefully tiptoed over Shadow, not wanting to awaken his feline companion. She and Griffon both deserved their rest. They had done admirably the night before. He glanced down at arms, noting that Griffon had chosen to stay in his tattoo form for now. That was probably a plus for V, considering his beloved bird’s mouthy nature.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of none other than Magnolia. The middle aged woman was leaned against the doorway, engaged in a conversation with Kyrie that he had only caught the end of. The young brunette looked thrilled and worried to see her new companion all at once.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Magnolia but… shouldn’t you be…” Kyrie didn’t seem to know the polite way to ask her about her medical status. She had been horrified to find out that the kindly Alchemist she had just met had ended up in the emergency room an hour or so afterwards.

Magnolia patted her on the shoulder gently, clearly happy to see her, but also quite worn out. Much to her dismay, she wasn’t as young as she once was. “Oh, don’t trouble yourself, dear,” She said with a kind smile,” I won’t be here long. I’m off to the docks. If I’m going to have to languish away in a bed for a couple of days, it’s going to be in my own flat, yea?”

Kyrie nodded, seemingly still concerned but aware that there was nothing she could do about this. The young woman had come to the conclusion that Nero’s friends were all slightly insane and it was best to let them do as they pleased in most cases. Magnolia turned her attention to V, noticing for the first time that he was standing there. She gave him a mischievous smirk, clearly as glad to see that he was alright as he was to see her. He had no idea where to begin trying to thank her for her selfless actions the night before. In saving his life, she had nearly lost hers, and they didn’t even know one another.

“... I’d like to thank you for saving me last night… I-”

The alchemist held up her hand, gently shushing him with a waive of her finger and a shake of her head. “Hush now, Love. This isn’t my first fight. I didn’t go through the trouble of bringing you back from Purgatorio just to let a Faust send you right back,” She reached into her pocket, pulling a small piece of cardstock paper from within and handing it to him,” Once we all get settled in, give me a call. I’d like to see if I can help you. I hear you're a summoner. Perhaps I can show you a trick or two.”

V nodded, looking the small piece of paper over. He would consider her offer. After all, he was in her debt. She’d saved his life. It was a small favor to ask, and it could prove to be beneficial down the road. After a moment he nodded quietly, moreso to himself than to her but she got the message regardless.

Before they could finish their conversation, Vergil and Dante rounded the corner from the living room, seemingly embroiled in some other topic of conversation. Nero shadowed them, though he seemed to be uninvolved in whstervet they were talking about. Upon seeing Magnolia, Vergil craned his neck to the side, clearly inquiring in silence as to what the hell she was doing out of the hospital. “I see they were unable to keep you.”

Magnolia schoffed, folding her arms gently around her torso so as to not aggravate her wounds. “If I didn’t know better, Vergil Sparda, I’d say you were worried about me,” The smug smile on her face spoke volumes,” Is that why you're still in town?”

Vergil blanched, horrified by the statement. “Absolutely not. In fact, I was just leaving.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” She said with a small giggle,” Now that I’m here.”

The subtle yet totally flabbergasted look on Vergil’s face was enough to nearly send Dante into a laughing fit. It wasn’t every day that he found someone so adept to getting under his twin brother’s skin. The youngest Son of Sparda clapped his brother on the shoulder, gesturing towards her. “You’ve gotta tell me how you two met sometime. There has to be some history between you two.”

Magnolia smirked, waving goodbye to the group as she turned and carefully headed down the stairs. “You're quite right, Dante. Since we're all going in the same direction, we might as well travel together. I can regale you with tales from your brother’s youth on the way.”

No one present could tell if the face Vergil made at the prospect was anguish, anger, or pure unadulterated terror, but he followed her out of the door, more than likely eager to ask her to reconsider. Dante followed her as well, more than curious as to what dirt she had on his frigid twin. Nero joined V at his side, shaking his head as they all hurried out of the door. 

“Yea, next time we run into each other, you’ve gotta fill me on on some of that, too,” Nero said, not even trying to hide his amusement at the concept of being able to relentlessly torment his father with all of his embarrassing secret,” I bet it’s pretty funny.”

Both Nero and V could practically feel their father screaming on the inside as the front door closed. V smirked, suppressing a snicker. Yes, it looked like he did need to pay her a visit. Anyone that good at driving their father insane was worth his time. He turned to Nero, feeling the need to say something but not entirely sure what. Nero seemed to share that sensation, contributing to the awkward silence that settled over them. Thankfully Kyrie, who had gone into the kitchen during all of this to give them space, seemed to feel their discomfort and called to them from the next room, informing them that breakfast would be ready in a few minutes. Nero thanked her and headed towards the stairs, seemingly planning to wake the children.

“... Wait…” V called after him, now more sure of what he wanted to say. A lot had happened between them in the last few days.”... Thank you… for everything…”

Nero stopped and gave him a surprised look before scratching the back of his neck, unsure of how to take the comment. On the rare occasion that V tried to open up to him, he was never sure what to say. Every genuine moment between them seemed to come without notice, but he didn’t really loathe that. In fact, it almost made him happy. Maybe.

“... You too, I guess,” Nero said quietly, glancing towards the stairs,”... I’m gonna go wake up the kids. See you at breakfast?”

V nodded in agreement. They shared a moment of silence (one that was significantly less uncomfortable than the last) and then Nero made good on his word, heading upstairs to go wake up the boys. V turned and went back into his room, opting to take a moment to reflect. Upon entering the room and closing the door, he decided that it would be best to change his clothes before heading to breakfast. Upon sitting down on the bed and pulling the comfortably loose shirt over his head, it occurred to him that what he had just done should have hurt considerably more than it had. He placed the shirt down on the bed and turned his attention to the bandage that covered the laceration he’d received from the Cutlass the night before, carefully peeling it back to check on the injury.

And to his utter disbelief, he was met with nothing more than a bloody bandage. There was no wound to speak of, only the slight soreness that it had left in its wake. V traced the spot where the wound had been, unsure of how to take this sudden revelation. He had never recovered from an injury that quickly in his entire life. What was going on? Had his recent resurrection awakened something within him? Was this some sort of biological fluke? Whatever it was, he was grateful for it for the time being. V wasn’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As he grabbed a spare shirt and laid it down on the bed, he decided to take a quick shower. So many things had happened to him in the last three days. So many things were still left unanswered. And as soon as he felt up to it, he was going to pay Magnolia a visit. Perhaps she and his father could help him locate the answers he so longed for. But all of that would have to come at a later date. For now, he was going to take a hot shower and relax. And then he was going to fight his young nephews for the waffles he could smell from the kitchen. They had lost already, they just didn’t know it yet.

-~-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally did it. I finished a fic. For once, my ADD didn’t get the better of me. I don’t think I quite believe it yet. Wow. And on my mother’s birthday, too! Thank you so dang much for reading this entire story. You're the reason I kept writing it. Part two is coming shortly! I just have to work out the plot. If you’d like to help me out with that, you can go to the link I’ve left below and answer a couple of quick questions. It will take less than five minutes, and it would be very helpful since I’ll be using the feedback to shape some of the events of the next book. But regardless, thank you again for taking the time out of your life for two months to humor me and my writing. I look forward to seeing you all again on Friday July 17th, 2020 for the start of the second book, Apocrypha. And again, you're all amazing. I couldn’t have done this without your support. If you haven’t already, check out my Tumblr (Skvader’s Epos) since I update there very often. Now time to buy a new chromebook and get to work on part two! But first, a little DMC5 and Animal Crossing.
> 
> If you’d like to help me out with the next book, go to this link. I’m not collecting any personal info or anything like that, I just want to pitch some nonsense ideas and get a feel for what you’d like to have answered in the next book. It will only take like five minutes, and it would be massively helpful. Thank you all again for your time. You're incredible.
> 
> Link: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1dUCZ-SoJTw8NRxVz0-eM3vMcOu9bAGsVxGEgw8nDrYU/edit?usp=drivesdk
> 
> This fic is dedicated to:
> 
> BeansWithBones, Random Reader, Nothing Special, SkylarMorgan1899, Rarbox, HunterJamie, RubixaSeraph, Aureux, Likethecatiam, That_Random_Kid, He Who Wanders, Mallovarwen, Nephilim-Girl and everyone else on Ao3, FF.N, Tumblr, and Wattpad who read this fic all the way through to completion and left kudos. You're astounding! Sorry if I forgot to name anyone. I was going off of comments!
> 
> Part two “Apocrypha” starts on July 17th, 2020!


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